


All Except One

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2019-06-24 15:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 27,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15633807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: A shock revelation threatens to tear the Scooby Gang apart, but will it bring Spike and Buffy together in the long run? (Alternative Season Seven without the First Evil and Potential Slayers plot line.)





	1. Chapter 1

“Well, I think it’s a bad omen. I mean, it must be, right? Just sitting there, directly on top of the Hellmouth. Maybe you should just stay home.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Buffy, I’ll be fine. It’s just High School.”

“Even regular High Schools can be dangerous,” Buffy pointed out. “Drugs, boys, bullying!”

Before she got even more worked up, Dawn said, “I promise I won’t bully any drugged-up boys.”

Buffy pouted, knowing she was going a little overboard. “Just call me if there’s anything wiggy, alright?”

“Right,” said Dawn, going out the front door to Xander’s waiting car where had advice waiting for her, too.

“Stay away from boys,” he said, the second she got in the passenger seat.

Again, Dawn rolled her eyes. She even added a deep sigh, for effect.

\---

With Dawn gone for the day, Buffy set about her chores. For some reason, they seemed to take half the regular amount of time. By ten-AM, she had washed the breakfast dishes, put out the trash, done the laundry, and had begun trying to fight off the thoughts that inevitably came whenever she had a free moment.

True, she didn’t often have free moments to begin with, but over the summer she’d actively tried to avoid them. Time to think had become time to feel guilty about things with Spike, and time to worry about where he might be, or consider what he might be doing.

Buffy shook her head. She couldn’t dwell on it. She’d need to find a distraction, and quick.

When Willow had gone to England with Giles, it had pretty much been a spur of the moment thing, so she’d left her laptop behind and the Slayer had been making good use of it applying for jobs online.

Now that Willow and Giles were due back, Buffy decided to do one last search before setting about deleting her files and putting everything back the way the Witch had left them. Coffee in hand, she had only just sat down in front of the computer when the phone rang.

Somewhat on edge from her wayward thoughts as much as from the stress of having her little sister grow up, and worry over not being able to provide for her let alone protect her, she jumped up immediately and grabbed the receiver.

“Dawn?”

“Gee, Buffy, have you been sitting there just waiting for me to call?”

“Dawn, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, there’s just a little, umm…” she trailed off, suddenly not sounding so sure. “I think it might be ghosts?”

Buffy closed the laptop. “I’m coming to get you right now.”

“I don’t think you need to–”

Ignoring Dawn’s oncoming insistence that everything would be fine and her inevitable request not to worry, Buffy hung up and dialed Xander.

“Can you come by the house again? I need a ride.”

\---

Buffy looked about the rebuilt High School, realizing her error in cutting Dawn off. The layout was completely different to the old building and she had no idea what exactly she was looking for or where to start.

In her haste, she had forgotten to pick up her own cell phone. Instinct was leading her to the basement, however. _Doesn’t everything dark and nasty live in basements?_

She had just reached for the door when the principal appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and asked her what she was doing.

“I… uh. I’m Dawn’s sister,” she stammered, playing with a stray lock of hair. “I mean, she’s _my_ sister.” _What’s with authority types that make me ramble? I_ am _an authority type!_ Buffy shook her head and barreled on in her explanation. “She called to say she was having trouble. It’s her first day and all. You know how hard it can be.”

“Oh, I don’t know as well as you, Miss Summers,” said Principal Wood, smiling.

Buffy blinked at him. If she thought she was shocked by him knowing her name, she was utterly dumbfounded when he offered her a job.

“I’ve read your file, and I think you just might have the fine set of life experiences this school needs in a guidance counselor,” he said.

“No way!” replied Buffy, before realizing it probably wasn’t the professional response.

She was relieved when Robin leaned forward a little, smiled wider and said, “ _Way_. You can start on Monday.” After that, he wandered off again, just leaving Buffy to gape after him.

 _Was that for real?_ Several months applying for jobs and all she had to do was go visit Dawn at school? It sure sounded crazy enough to be true.

Buffy suddenly remembered her sister’s predicament and turned back towards the basement door. As soon as she passed through it, she was hit by a wave of familiar tinglies at the back of her neck that made her gasp.

 _It’s not possible_ , she thought, but still she called out his name into the darkness: “Spike?”

“Buffy?” replied Dawn. “Buffy, I’m down here.”

Following both the sound and the sensation, Buffy finally located both Spike and Dawn at the end of a long corridor.

“What’s going on?”

“There was a talisman,” said Dawn. “Spike found it and broke it. Now the ghosts are gone.”

“Oh,” said Buffy, suddenly not sure what to do with her hands.

Spike wouldn’t look at her and she didn’t know how to react to him. In all the ways she imagined his return, this hadn’t been one of them.

\---

Anya had been having a rough day. In truth, she’d been having a series of rough days ever since Giles had taken Willow to England and just left her to sort out the half-demolished store.

Xander, having had the day off work, had agreed to come in and help her sort stock, but first Dawn had needed a lift to school and then Buffy called him away again.

It was so typical for the needs of the Hellmouth to come first and for her to be an afterthought. She had been planning to reward Xander for his help and everything.

Now that the day was wearing on and her helper hadn't returned, Anya was certain he wouldn’t have time for anything before he’d have to set out for the airport. She balled her fists. It was just so unfair.

Continuing to grumble to herself as she shifted boxes and sorted items into piles, she was so caught up in her own thoughts that it took her a moment to realize all of the readings on the new batch of supernatural activity detectors she’d had shipped in were pointing to danger.

\---

The awkward silence that hung between Dawn, Buffy, and Spike was broken by Dawn’s new cell ringing. After picking up and listening to a frantic Anya for a moment, Dawn passed the phone to her sister. 

\---

“Xander, how are you?” Giles enquired, once he was fully settled into the car.

“All good, G-man. Today I’m picking up people instead of donuts, no carpentry or moving boxes required.”

“Quite,” said Giles, a bit bewildered by the response but deciding not to question it.

Willow, for her part, was staying quiet as she pretended to blend in with the upholstery in the hope of being ignored.

Once again, the tension was broken by a phone ringing.

Giles picked up, turned grey at what he heard, and then told Xander to turn around and head for the Magic Box instead of his temporary flat.

\---

By the time Buffy and Dawn reached the Magic Box, it seemed everyone else had got there before them. Xander’s car was out front and the Slayer could hear Giles’ voice inside.

Spike had also beat them, coming up from the sewer exit at their feet as they approached the front door.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here,” Buffy told him.

“Probably not,” he agreed, his eyes cast down at his boots. “It’s just–”

They were interrupted by Anya opening the door and dragging them both in by the arm, leaving Dawn to trail behind.

“There you are! We’ve been waiting. There’s danger and I want it fixed before there’s any more damage to my shop!”

Having ignored both Giles’ glares at Spike and the sound of him clearing his throat when she referred to the shop as hers, Anya finally stopped mid-sentence when she took a proper look at the Vampire.

“How did you–?” she began, only to stop again when Spike started backing away.

“I’ll go,” he said, hands raised.

“Wait,” said Buffy, and he stopped. She turned to Anya. “How did he what?”

Anya looked at her then back at Spike. “Can’t you see? He’s got his so–”

Again she was cut off, this time by a burst of green light appearing in the middle of the store. All of the supernatural activity detectors exploded at once and, when the smoke cleared, the gang found Tara standing among them, looking around and biting her lip as she gave a little wave.

“Uh, hi guys.”


	2. Chapter 2

There was silence as everyone stared at Tara. Willow was the first to break it, though, as she burst into tears. Through gasping sobs, she exclaimed, “I’m sorry. Tara, baby, I’m so sorry!”

When she went to approach her, Giles put out his hand to stop her.

“Are you real?” he questioned, his voice carefully measured.

Everyone paused again and Willow forced herself to quiet as they waited for an answer. Tara took a moment before hesitantly saying, “I’m me.”

Willow tried to rush towards her once more, but Giles stopped her again.

“And what are you?” he pressed.

Tara looked down, as if summoning power from the floor, then raised her eyes to meet his.

“I’m a higher power.”

At that, Willow fell to the ground, her crying becoming uncontrollable. “You’re not real. You’re not!” she yelled.

Buffy, who had watched the scene intently, stepped further into the room and demanded some kind of explanation; whether from Giles or from Tara, she didn’t care.

“You’re not corporeal,” said Giles to Tara.

“That’s right,” she affirmed, though it hadn’t been a question.

“Not real!” Willow wailed again.

Buffy closed her eyes as her brow furrowed. It would take forever to figure out what was wrong if every sentence was interrupted by crying.

“Anya, could you take Willow to the back room?” she asked.

“No!” Willow protested, climbing to her feet. “I’m staying.”

Giles polished his glasses before deciding the way forward was to have everyone sit down and talk calmly, but he made a point of stating that everyone did not include Spike.

As crazy as it sounded, Buffy had almost forgotten about Spike. Him coming back had been a massive deal, but now it wasn’t even on her radar. There were still big, _big_ issues there, but she was content that they’d get to them and, in the meantime, he’d returned to being part of the furniture in her mind.

She was torn over whether to back Giles up and tell him to go, or if she should just say it was fine and put it off until later, but it was Tara who took it out of her hands.

“He has to stay,” she said, “This concerns him.”

“What concerns him?” asked Xander, who had so far just sat back and watched everything unfold.

“You’ve come to us with a message?” Giles hedged, and Tara nodded.

“The big trouble all the dials predicted!” exclaimed Anya.

Tara nodded again. “There’s a lot to explain, but there’s not much time.” She looked at Willow as she said that part and the Witch took it as her cue to fully pull herself together.

Taking a seat, Willow prepared herself for whatever she was about to hear. Then, when nothing was forthcoming for a moment, she opened her mouth to ask something, but before she could get the words past her lips, Tara preempted her by saying, “I’m not in any pain. I’m okay.”

Willow nodded, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

Tara looked around the room once more at all the people she’d left behind, her eyes lingering on Willow longer than everyone else. Her heart ached for the news that she had to tell, and for how it would devastate each of them.

“I suppose I should start with the basics. There’s a demon on its way from a different plane of existence. Earth isn’t its destination, but it’s got to go through here to get where it’s going, and it’ll tear up the planet in the process.”

“Okay,” said Buffy. “With you so far.” Despite addressing the comment to Tara, her eyes were locked on Dawn, who still seemed to be in shock. She was sitting in the corner, her face pale and eyes wide. Buffy mentally kicked herself when she realized why she was taking this current danger particularly badly.

“Can I help?” Dawn asked Tara, finally finding her voice. “Am I still the Key? Can I close doors and stuff?”

There was a resounding, “no” from Buffy, Spike, and Tara to that; to which Tara added, soothingly, “It’s not your battle and hopefully it won’t come to that.”

“There’s a way to stop the demon before he comes through?” asked Giles.

“Yes,” said Tara. This was the hard part. “To defeat the demon you must do it on its home plane.”

“Okay,” Buffy said again, grabbing hold of a broadsword from a nearby stack Anya had been cataloging. “No problem. Can you get me there?”

“No.”

Buffy frowned then turned on her heel to face Willow. “You can–”

“No,” Tara repeated.

Buffy whipped around to face her again. “What is it?”

Despite being a higher being, Tara felt weak in that moment. She looked at the ground again as she said it: “Only someone with a soul can make the journey.”

The words came out in an almost-whisper and were met by silence. Tara forced herself to look up once more, catching sight of faces filled with incomprehension. Xander’s broke into a smile after a minute.

“You’re joking, right? This is a joke.”

“N–no.”

Buffy was the next to shake free of her shock. She approached Tara and stared hard into her eyes. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

“I don’t believe it. This isn’t a joke, it’s a trick; a trap!”

“Buffy, I’m not lying to you.”

Buffy crossed her arms. “Explain,” she said.

“Why don’t you take it easy, Pet?” said Spike, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder only to flinch away again a moment later.

“Nobody asked you, evil undead,” snarked Xander.

“I’m waiting,” said Buffy, ignoring them both.

Tara took a gulp of unneeded air and said, “Souls aren’t like what you think they are. They don’t change who you fundamentally are.”

There was an almost manic kind of grunt from Spike, who everyone suddenly started shifting away from, and more glaring from Buffy. She shook her head.

“You’re wrong. You never saw Angelus. He–”

“Angel is different,” said Tara.

Spike rolled his eyes and muttered, “Always bloody is.”

Buffy took a deep breath. “Look, can we discuss this all later? I have a demon to kill.”

“You can’t go through the portal to him,” Tara reaffirmed.

Buffy balled her fists. “Okay, so, what? What are you suggesting – send someone else?”

“There is only one who can,” said Tara.

“Who?” Buffy demanded.

“Spike,” said Tara.


	3. Chapter 3

Buffy blinked, opening and closing her mouth a few times as she did so.

“Spike’s the only one who can do this? What are you talking about?”

“The mission needs to be completed by someone with a soul, and…” Tara paused to brace herself, “And he’s the only one that has one.”

“Okay, now I _know_ this is a joke,” said Xander, “Except it’s not funny.”

The anger had drained out of Buffy to be replaced by shock again. She almost fell down under the weight of it. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand,” Xander continued. “This is all bull.”

“No, Xander,” said Willow, softly. “That’s really Tara. I can feel it. She wouldn’t lie to us.”

Dawn had a face full of tears as she asked, “I don’t have a soul?”

Tara turned to her. “I’m sorry, sweetie. But like I said, souls are different than how we thought of them. They don’t mean much here.”

Buffy pulled herself together enough to make a small calculation. “They mean things in other places, though, right? That’s why only someone with a soul can go after the demon.”

Tara nodded and everyone kind of accepted that point, except Xander, who wasn’t done protesting.

“It doesn’t make any sense. You mean Spike’s the only one with _both_ battle experience _and_ a soul, right? Buffy’s out, but the rest of us are fine, _right_?” Before Tara had a chance to respond, he sank into a chair and ran his hands through his hair. He lowered his voice and asked instead, “Why don’t we have souls?”

The new question had been directed as much at himself than the rest of the room, but Tara answered, “You all did, at one point. Except…” she turned back to Dawn. “You weren’t made with one, I’m sorry. A-a-and Buffy never came back with one. It was one of the consequences of being resurrected. Th-the rest of you… you lost them.” She hesitated again. This was the real kicker. “When you took lives.”

Tara couldn’t bring herself to look directly at any of her former friends as she said it, instead focusing her attention on twisting her incorporeal fingers around themselves. She wanted nothing more than to get away from the tension and grief in the room – to get on with working on the mission – but still Xander was throwing questions at her.

“But how come Spike has a soul, anyway? He’s killed more than any of us.”

“Not more than me,” Anya interjected.

“Not helping,” he shot back.

“Spike hasn’t killed anyone since he got his soul back,” said Tara.

Buffy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Wait. He got his soul back? When did that happen?” She was addressing Tara, wholly unable to look at the Vampire in question.

Tara worried her lip. It wasn’t really her news to tell. As her hesitation continued, Xander opened his mouth again but Buffy told him to shut up before he got any more words out.

“You said I didn’t come back wrong,” she accused, unshed tears swimming in her eyes.

“There’s no way I could have known this,” said Tara. “And souls–”

“Don’t mean much here. Yeah, you said. Then what are they? What _do_ they mean?” Buffy’s voice pitched at the end of each question as she tried to stop herself from breaking down.

Tara, meanwhile, forced herself not to give into her discomfort and look away again. “They mainly mean you can’t cross planes. That…” she looked at Buffy resolutely. “They mean that you can’t get into heaven.”

Willow and Dawn gasped as Buffy let out a sharp cry at the news, like she’d been stabbed. Spike automatically went to hold the Slayer, but she shoved him off and turned to her former best friend, slapping her full in the face.

“You ripped me out of there and now I can’t go back!”

Willow was crying harder than ever. “Buffy, I’m sor–“

“Get the hell out of my sight!”

Xander tried to jump in and defend Willow, but his words died in his throat at the look Buffy gave him. Instead, he tried to drag Willow from the place kicking and screaming. They were all distracted by raised voices coming from behind them, however.

Buffy turned to face Tara once more. She felt dizzy. Sick. And couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing: Spike on his knees before the Higher Being, tears streaming down his own face as he begged her for something.

“Please, _please_!”

“I can’t do it!” said Tara.

“Please!” he insisted.

Thinking the worst of him, the Slayer hauled Spike up by the scruff of the neck and pushed him against the wall, away from her. “What are you doing?”

He hid his face and didn’t answer, so again she looked to Tara. “What is this?”

Calmly, Tara said, “He wanted me to take his soul and give it to you.”

The room spun faster; the sound of crying coming at Buffy from every side, but one set of tearful whimpering called out to her more than the rest. Centering herself, she pushed away all of her own feelings.

“Dawn, come here,” she said, reaching out a hand and pulling her little sister close. “It’ll be okay.”

After a few seconds of focusing solely on Dawn, and still while she held her up, Buffy’s attention shifted to Willow. “I want you out of here. You have an hour to leave Sunnydale again or so help me.”

Ultimatum made, the Slayer refocused her attention once more – this time on Spike. Voice cold, she said, “Prepare to go after the demon.”

Buffy could feel his eyes on her, wide with horror and sorrow, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. She’d forgiven him for trying to rape her – almost as soon as he’d left her home, in fact – but _this_? This she really didn’t think she could forgive at all.

When Buffy wouldn’t react to Spike beyond giving him the command, he once more returned his pleas to Tara.

“There’s nothing I can do,” she insisted. “I can stay here for a while and explain more, but things stay as they are.”

Spike opened his mouth, but Buffy held up a hand to silence him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him hang his head in acceptance of the mission.

Tara took him aside to explain the specifics of where he was going and what he would need, meanwhile Dawn’s arms were still wrapped around Buffy’s waist, her damp face resting against her shoulder.

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this, and I’m going to fix it,” Buffy promised her.


	4. Chapter 4

The entire time Tara spent explaining the mission to Spike, he tried to pay attention, but his heart was rent in two at the knowledge that Buffy had taken another blow. Another massive blow.

She had no soul.

A callus part of himself whispered that it explained a lot, but he refused to believe it was true and would downright call out anyone who would dare say the Slayer was anything less than magnificent. Flawed, certainly, but never lacking in anything.

Even so…

Spike blinked, his eyes refocusing on Tara. She was looking back at him, silently waiting. When had she stopped talking? He searched his mind but couldn’t recall the last complete sentence he’d actually heard.

“I know this is a lot,” she said.

Spike shook his head, ready to tell her that the magnitude of his task didn’t bother him – wasn’t even in his top ten list of concerns – but then he looked again at her expression and realized that she, too, was thinking about Buffy.

_Buffy. Buffy. Buffy._ She was the focal point of his existence. She was everything, yet had nothing left. What was the world going to take from her next? How could such a short life be so cruel?

\---

Having taken a still-sobbing Willow to Xander’s car and made him sit there with her, Giles re-entered the store and took Buffy aside for a word. He cleared his throat and two sets of eyes looked up at him.

Dawn had not let go of her sister.

“I think it’s best we all meet again as soon as possible to research the specifics of this… unique situation.” The word he had wanted to use for the _unique situation_ was ‘shit’, but the watcher took control of himself.

Buffy didn’t answer, but he hadn’t really expected her to. Expectations truly were shitty things, he considered. He had expected to be welcomed back, for example, and he had anticipated some minimal awkwardness at the reintroduction of Willow to the group, but he’d also predicted it would soon be fixed.

Giles didn’t want to be bitter, especially when he knew Buffy had things much worse than he did, but the truth was that whoever or whatever the Powers That Be were, he hated them. Having given it a lot of thought, his conclusion was that either they were negligent or they were not as all-powerful as they made out. Either option left him disappointed beyond words.

\---

Her mind still buzzing, Buffy hadn’t really realized that Giles had left the store again until Tara approached her in his place. She was offering to go into the back room with Dawn to answer any questions she had.

Buffy left the decision up to her, saying nothing as her eyes stayed locked onto the back of Spike’s head, glaring a hole through it in the hopes of somehow activating his chip.

He looked around suddenly and their eyes finally met. The Slayer cursed herself for that. Since leaving the school’s basement, she’d vowed not to look in those eyes again, convinced that they were her weakness.

Vaguely aware of Dawn releasing her arm and following Tara out of her amended line of sight, Buffy now became acutely aware that she and Spike were the only two left in the room. She approached him, at first appearing indifferent and then– _CRACK._ Her palm struck his right cheek.

Spike closed his eyes, visibly bracing himself for another blow, but it didn’t come. After a few long moments, when the sound of their combined breathing got too much, his eyes opened again, but they remained downcast.

Buffy was staring a hole through him once more but, for all she wanted to say, she couldn’t begin to form words; couldn’t trust herself to open her mouth.

Moments became minutes as they continued to stand in silence – Buffy not asking anything and Spike not explaining anything.

Good. She preferred it that way.

In a lot of ways, aside from his eyes, Spike’s words were his best weapon against her. She could pretend he hadn’t wounded her with them many times, but they both knew better. So, yeah, she was glad he was saying nothing. It was the only thing she could be glad about, given the circumstances, but she’d take it.

Honestly, Buffy didn’t know how she could possibly hold together if Spike was to say even a single word – whether in his defense or as an apology, it wouldn’t matter.

Spike in his entirety was the Slayer’s true weakness. It started with his eyes, and his words, and ended with his hands; his touch. Now his soul, she supposed.

Buffy gave a violent shiver at the thought, and it was at this that he finally opened his mouth.

“Don’t,” she ordered.

His jaw snapped shut.

“Go do the mission. The mission is what matters.”

When he gave a solemn nod, she felt anger rise up in her again. He was supposed to be a warrior; being all sad and sorrowful wasn’t going to defeat anything, and there was no way she was going to let a demon tear through a world with Dawn in it. She was _not_ going to let her sister be in that kind of danger ever again.

Resolute in this, Buffy knew she needed to say more. Despite every fiber of her being telling her to run from the Vampire in the hope of never seeing him again, she needed to provoke him into giving the mission his best shot.

“You promised me,” she reminded him, “To protect Dawn.” Catching his eye one final time, Buffy added, “Don’t let me down again.”

She knew it was the most damning thing she could say to him; knew exactly how to hurt him the most. As much as he was her weakness, she was his.

Pain and rage flared in his eyes as he looked back at her, and she could tell that her words had worked; that he knew exactly what she was doing.

It was only as he walked away from her that a sudden fear gripped her: that maybe it was the last time she’d ever get to see those eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

In the back room, away from Spike and Buffy and the horror that had unfolded in the main part of the Magic Box, Dawn asked Tara about how the others lost their souls – about how and when they took lives.

“That’s not really for me to say,” said Tara, gently.

Dawn nodded. “I get that. It’s just that – god! I don’t understand any of this. It’s so awful!”

“I know.” Tara wished she was able to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “If they want to talk about it for themselves, I can help. Maybe they’ll share whatever answers they get with you, but Dawnie, you have to understand that I can’t violate free will. It has to be their choice.”

Dawn snorted. _Choice_. The word ignited fire in her blood. What choice was she given when monks made her into a living-breathing girl without bothering to create a soul around that?

Her voice quivered as she asked, “What happens after, then? To me, I mean. When I die. Do I go to hell?”

Tara smiled, the expression tortured, her eyes soft. “No, sweetie. You still have a higher purpose, like me.”

Dawn’s own gaze brightened momentarily before becoming wary. “I’ll be a Higher Power?”

“You’ll just be,” said Tara. “I know that won’t make sense to you right now, but it’s the best way I can explain it. You were created out of energy and, when you go, that energy doesn’t cease to exist.”

“But everyone else. Do they just…” she balled her hands into fists, “ _Cease_?”

Tara lowered her head in answer, not saying any more. It was too much to take in. Information overload. And, yet, Dawn still had one more question she needed to ask: “What about Spike?”

\---

Spike tuned out the background noise of Dawn and Tara talking as he tried and failed to also ignore the sight of Buffy’s head bobbing back and forth in front of the store window as she paced, waiting for either the conversation with the girls to be done or Xander to return with the car, whichever came first.

Anya was out front, too, but on this one occasion somehow knew better than to open her mouth and comment on any of it. The Slayer looked ready to gut the first person who got in her way.

Spike rubbed his forehead, wondering if he pressed hard enough it would make the information sink in better.

The demon he was set to fight was supposed to be big. Spike decided to nickname it Oppenheimer for its propensity for destroying worlds and all, the small amusement his wit gave him doing little to distract from where his thoughts truly lay.

Buffy hated him. Of course she did. What else did he expect?

Damn but he’d been stupid to think getting a soul would change anything. Well… he supposed it changed _some_ things – namely the oncoming battle with good old Oppenheimer – but nothing that actually mattered.

He would do this – for Dawn. For Buffy, regardless of everything – but then… he shook his head. That was it. He was done with Sunnydale. How could he come back again? What did any of it matter if the Slayer would never look at him again?

\--- 

Xander had no idea how most of a day had passed since he first got in his car to give Dawn a ride to school that morning. It was all a blur.

That morning, his biggest concern had been making sure she got there on time and that she knew what to watch out for and be careful of.

“Stay away from boys,” he’d said, like they were the biggest threat in a world of demons and Keys.

At the time, he’d been trying to distract himself from all the thoughts Anya had brought up over breakfast. She’d been staying over at his place more and more regularly, but they hadn’t really talked about it and she suddenly wanted to go public? How could they do that when he didn’t even know what they were doing? What they _were_. Period.

Hands tightening around the steering wheel, Xander wanted nothing more than to go home and forget about all of it. Anya had been a good method for forgetting, but he wasn’t sure she would stay that way for long if she was getting ideas about them getting back together. If he allowed it to continue, he knew he’d get swept up again and before he knew it she’d be planning another wedding and it would all come crashing down. Again.

“Watch out!” warned Giles, as he drove too close to a mailbox.

“I got it,” said Xander, turning a little, though he knew he hadn’t really noticed the danger. It was a minute before he asked where they were going.

Briefly, he caught a look of panic in Willow’s eyes in the rearview mirror when he questioned, “Back to the airport or to the bus station?”

“To my flat,” said Giles. “I gave you the address earlier.”

So he was going to ignore Buffy’s threat and keep Willow in town, at least for a bit. Xander nodded and took a left, happy about that if nothing else.

Outside Giles’ apartment building, he hugged his friend and helped Giles carry their luggage up the three flights of stairs before getting back in the car. Once there, he gave himself ten minutes to just sit, having everything go over in his mind, before attempting the short journey back to the Magic Box.

Outside of it, he found Buffy pacing and Anya standing beside her, clearly waiting for him.

He avoided her eyes and asked Buffy if she was ready.

“I’ll get Dawn,” she said, ducking inside. Xander followed, Anya on his heels, the three of them stopping not far inside the door.

Dawn was at the table, watching Tara as she stood with Spike in the center of the room.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Expression grave, Spike nodded.

Xander thought Buffy was going to ask something but, before she could, Tara hovered two fingers close to Spike’s temple.

Everyone watched as he closed his eyes and a pulse of green energy passed from the fingers to his forehead.

“There,” said Tara a second later.

Spike opened his eyes and Xander looked around at Buffy who was taking in the scene with a heavy frown. When she didn’t say anything, Xander asked, “What was that? I thought you were supposed to be sending him on his way.”

“That was prep,” said Tara.

“Prep?” repeated Xander, a sudden sinking feeling in his gut.

“The chip,” said Spike, his voice awed. “It’s gone.”


	6. Chapter 6

_Don’t let me down again._

The words replayed in Buffy’s mind on repeat as she lay in bed, the hope of sleep long gone from her restless limbs. Had she really said that? The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if the memory was even real. Like how the more times you keep trying to spell a word, the more muddled all the letters become until you doubt your complete ability to speak English.

Buffy sighed and rolled over, remembering the look in Spike’s eyes.

Yup, she’d said it alright. Like a moron. An angry, selfish moron who had lashed out at the one guy willing to give up everything for her. Again.

She groaned, resisting the urge to kick herself in the head. Why did she have to say anything at all? At the time, she’d rationalized that it would make him harden his heart, meaning he wouldn’t fall apart and stood a better chance of keeping his undead ass in one piece. Now, though…

“Buffy?”

She rolled to face her bedroom door and just about made out Dawn’s silhouette in the dark. When their eyes met, Dawn entered the room fully and walked over to the bed.

“You couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

“I guess not,” said Buffy, repositioning herself once more in a silent invitation for Dawn to curl in beside her.

Taking the invitation, Dawn lay down and shuffled back a bit as Buffy began to stroke her hair. “Today was…” she began.

“I know,” said Buffy. “I don’t really have the words for it either.”

“It’s just so much,” said Dawn. “It feels like we should be talking about it, but I don’t know how.”

Buffy held her close. “We’ll get through this.”

Dawn didn’t respond to that but, after a long silence asked, “What happens now?”

It was a good question, and another thing that had been haunting Buffy’s thoughts. “I… I guess we take things one day at a time. Figure stuff out as we go. Tara said she’d be able to answer all of our questions, right?”

“Right,” said Dawn, though she didn’t sound sure.

Buffy sat up a little. “Is something else bothering you?”

Dawn turned to face her. “Yeah, I just… Everything with Spike is this whole deal, right? Is that gonna work out too?”

Buffy focused her eyes on the corner of the room but, before she could get the words ‘Dawnie, I don’t know’ past her lips, Dawn went on to say, “We never really talked about everything that went on. With you and him. All summer and you didn’t say a word.”

Buffy opened her mouth and closed it again. It was a while before she trusted herself to say, “You don’t need to know about all that.”

“But I do!” said Dawn emphatically before lowering her voice again. “I mean, I’m not wanting details or anything, but it sounds like there was a lot of just…” she waved a frustrated hand, “ _Stuff_. And we’re not talking and you said we would talk and isn’t not talking part of our whole big problem?” She panted, her words having gotten louder again as they came out in a rush.

Half of Buffy had the urge to put a reassuring hand on hers while the other half wanted nothing more than to move away from her so she wouldn’t have to face either the noise or the truth of her words. As she shifted in indecision, Dawn became even more alert and asked if she was going to go after him.

Buffy’s lip trembled of its own accord. “What?”

“Spike. You are going to go after him, right?”

“Dawn, what are you–” she shook her head, overwhelmed with the sudden burst of thoughts running through it. She turned her body so that they were facing head-on. “What do you mean go after him? Dawn, is Spike going on his mission tonight?”

Dawn swallowed, her voice getting real quiet as she said, “Didn’t you know?”

\--- 

“Did you know about this?”

Xander stopped pacing back and forth across the length of his apartment to give Anya a pointed look. “Well?”

She looked up from her magazine and sighed. “Which bit are we talking about?”

Xander paused. He wanted to say, ‘all of it,’ but that wasn’t really helpful. How did he begin to put into words all of the questions he wanted to ask? After a minute he began with, “You could tell Spike had a soul when he walked in today, couldn't you?”

“Yes,” said Anya.

“Hmm.” Xander nodded and resumed pacing, processing that tidbit before asking, “Did you know Tara was gonna take out his chip?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” he said again.

Anya abandoned her magazine entirely, setting it aside as she stood up. “Are you going to do this all night? I want to go to bed.”

“No,” said Xander, causing Anya to narrow her eyes. He shook his head, not even knowing himself if he was answering her question or telling her she couldn’t stay over.

“I can go if you want,” she said, perfectly reasonably, though he could tell she was starting to get pissed.

“No,” he repeated. “Stay.” But when she didn’t look any less angry or sit down he added, “Please.”

“Okay,” she said at last. “But you need to calm down.”

He stopped pacing long enough to glare at her. “Calm down? How can I calm down? A chip-less Spike is out there, supposedly with a soul, while none of us have any and you expect me to be calm? How are you calm?”

Anya shrugged. It made something in Xander’s brain snap. As he held his temper in, the bit that had snapped off suddenly fitted in a new place.

“Wait a second,” he said. “You could tell that Spike had a soul.”

“Yeah,” said Anya, her hands going to her hips. “I already told you that.”

Xander shook his head, hoping it dislodged the new fact his brain had come up with. Slowly and very, very carefully he said, “If you can tell he has a soul, could you tell that we didn’t?”

“Sure,” said Anya.

Xander closed his eyes and sank into an armchair cradling his head. “So it’s true, then. We really don’t have them.” Without looking up, he sensed Anya step closer to him, though a reassuring hand didn’t materialize on his shoulder like he expected.

“You really didn’t know?” Anya questioned softly.

\---

Buffy bolted from the bed, her mind now focused on a single word: shit. _Shit shit shit_. Pulling on her jeans, she asked Dawn, “Why didn’t anyone tell me he was leaving now?” She’d assumed she’d get at least another Scooby meeting with him and have half a chance to pull herself together before then. She’d assumed… a whole bunch of stuff, honestly.

Not waiting for an answer, Buffy pulled on a top at random and headed out her bedroom door, leaving it open. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait up,” she told Dawn from the stairs.

In the cool night air that waited outside her front door, Buffy realized she’d done it again: hurried off in battle-mode without the first clue where she was going. Unable to stand still or go back on herself, she took off in the general direction of town while fumbling her cell phone from her pocket. At least she had it, this time.

Dawn picked up on the second ring. “Buffy, is that you? Have you found him already?”

Instead of answering, Buffy jumped right to asking her own question: “Do you know where it’s happening – where Tara will take Spike to start his journey?”

“N-no,” said Dawn.

The litany of ‘shit shit shit,’ started up in Buffy’s brain again. “Right,” she said. “Don’t worry. I…” she steeled herself. “I’ll sort this.”

_I really hope I can sort this._

First, she went to the Magic Box. That’s where she last saw them, hanging around, saying more with their eyes than they did out loud as Anya locked up. Buffy had left before they did – at the time not wanting to engage with either of them anymore – something she was now kicking herself for.

It was with a sense of foreboding that she patrolled the streets. What if she was too late? Her earlier fears returned to her tenfold – about never getting to see his eyes again; never getting to tell him that she was sorry.

Never getting to take back those stupid words.

_Okay, Buffy, focus. Find Spike now, freak out later._

As she worked her way around town in a modified grid pattern, checking side streets as well as the few places still open late, Buffy distantly recalled the night she’d ran after Riley’s departing helicopter. The experience was similar in some ways to the one she faced now, but worlds apart in others.

Apart from all that, that night had been a turning point for her and Spike, too. One of many that culminated in the epic turning point of Riley coming back again just long enough to screw things up; or give Buffy an excuse to screw things up herself. She often wondered what would have happened if either Riley didn’t swing back into town or she hadn’t broken things off with Spike in his wake.

From her perspective now, Buffy actually thought it a good thing that she didn’t make it to Riley’s initial departure in time. That was one regret she didn’t have. There would have been no point to catching him. Their relationship was beyond salvageable and it was only the faux wisdom of Xander that had briefly made her think otherwise. Deep down, she’d known it was done.

Deep down, Buffy didn’t think she and Spike would ever be done. Even if he never came back, there would be a mountain of ‘what ifs’ living on without him. Closure wasn’t a thing Buffy ever thought they’d have and, honestly, she didn’t even care about that. Because closure meant they were done and, it was more clear to her now that ever before: she didn’t want them to be done. Not ever.

Her footsteps became panicked, the more ground she covered with no success. It wasn’t like Tara had a place she could check. After the Magic Box, Buffy had gone to Spike’s crypt but even Clem seemed to have cleared out; the place cold and empty.

How long should she keep walking before she admitted that he was already gone? Buffy was pondering this, fighting her own stubborn streak, as the hill overlooking town came into view.

The hill where Angel had once wanted to wait on the sun.

The hill where two figures now stood, one with a light glow around them, the other clothed entirely in black.

Buffy blocked out all of her inner turmoil and running commentary as she channeled all of her energy into her legs, working hard to get them moving as fast as slayerly possible.

Finally, she crested the hill and began to ease up on her aching limbs, her mind turning back on as she approached Spike and Tara. While she was still a little way off, she wondered what she would actually say when they were face to face again.

With a fresh sinking feeling, Buffy watched in horror as the glow emanating from Tara got brighter and consumed both her and Spike, taking away Buffy’s chance to say anything as they disappeared in a blink.


	7. Chapter 7

Xander had hoped he’d feel better after some mindless sex and a good night’s sleep, but plans to test his theory were thwarted due to the sex not being entirely mindless (just why did Anya insist on talking even while climaxing?) and the sleep being much closer to mediocre than good – rest disrupted by nightmares of angels and fanged beasts.

All night, even as he was drifting in and out of consciousness, Xander had been aware of her right there beside him. And the more he thought about that, the more he regretted asking her to stay over.

Anya was getting too close. Xander’s instinct was to shove her away.

Ignoring that, he got up and dressed, walking out of the apartment door with neither a word nor a backwards glance only to pause on the other side, take a deep breath, and pull out his cell phone.

\---

Before he’d fully got both eyes open, Giles had taken two calls about Spike: one from Buffy saying he had already left and one from Xander to say he no longer had a chip.

Glancing at the clock and taking a brief moment to curse jet lag, Giles tried to decide which piece of intel he was more worried about. Buffy had presented her news without comment, but he got the sense she wasn’t as ambivalent about it as she would have him believe and that was a definite cause for concern.

Although potentially more dangerous in and of itself, for as long as Spike was gone, his lack of chip wasn’t a pressing matter. What Giles wanted to resolve in the meantime was to make sure Buffy’s feelings for him were settled and that she understood what she needed to do and was willing to proceed with such actions upon his return, no matter how heroic he may or may not have been.

A knock at his bedroom door served as a timely reminder of the other situation needing dealt with.

“I’m making coffee,” said Willow. “Do you want some? Or tea? I can make tea.”

Giles said that tea would be fine and that he would be out in a minute. When he joined her at the kitchen table, he saw that Willow bore the unmistakable signs of having spent the night crying; creases heavily pressed into both cheeks, her bloodshot eyes complete with red, swollen bags underneath.

He’d been too exhausted to hear her, but he supposed it didn’t matter considering he’d likely have been little comfort in any case.

“What’s the plan?” she asked now, nervousness clear in every syllable of her faked cheeriness.

Giles rubbed his eyes. “The plan is for you stay here while I go to the Magic Box and conduct some research.”

A hint of genuine hope glinted in Willow’s eye. “You don’t think Buffy meant what she said and was serious about wanting me to leave town? You think it’ll be okay with me staying here?”

“On the contrary,” said Giles. “I think she was very serious, but I also think she’ll change her mind, given time.”

Willow frowned but didn’t argue as she picked at a piece of dry toast, her hope having vanished again. Silence hung heavy between her and Giles until she said, “Here’s the thing,” and immediately broke off again, avoiding his gaze.

“What is it?” Giles prompted. “There’s something else?”

Willow swallowed. “The thing about souls, and about h-how we lost them. I…” her voice cracked but she carried on. “The thing is that, even though killing Warren cost me my soul, I don’t regret it.”

“Willow–”

“I know what you’re going to say, and I know it’s awful. I do know that. But I just can’t regret it. I–” sobs took hold of her once more, the intensity of them shaking her whole frame.

After a moment’s initial hesitation, Giles took one of her hands in his and said he understood.

She shook her head. “Of course you don’t. It’s not even fair that you’re going through this too. What you and your friends did with Eyghon – it’s not the same.”

“Eyghon?” repeated Giles, turning her words over in his mind twice before they clicked. Willow assumed it was his part in the summoning of a demon as a teenager that indirectly led to the deaths of his friends several years later that had cost him his soul. As he considered whether to continue letting her believe this, it occurred to him that the thought might actually have some merit. Those lives were lost, at least partially, due to his actions. Who was to say that wasn’t when he lost his soul and that he hadn’t been in possession of it for years?

Pushing that line of thought aside for the time being, confident he would dwell on it in far greater detail later, Giles made a decision to air the truth regarding the other matter.

“I killed Ben,” he said simply, taking back his hand when Willow dropped it to stare at him.

“You– you did what?” she stammered.

Giles resisted the urge to take off his glasses and wipe them. “Ben was a threat to Buffy and the world. Or Glory was. I couldn’t allow them to remain.”

“But–” Willow shook her head more violently than before. “No. His body was there. They died the same night as Buffy. I saw the body. Glory fell from the tower, Buffy fought her on the ground, she turned into Ben and he…” she trailed off again. “He didn’t die because of the fight? You killed him?”

“I did,” said Giles. “And as sorry as I am that it was necessary, I do know what you mean when you say you cannot regret your actions.”

\---

Anya stared at the ceiling above Xander’s bed, knowing she would be late to open the shop but finding herself not able to care very much. What had happened to her? When had she allowed herself to be hollowed out and used without bothering to even keep being indignant about it?

She could blame Xander and, sure, he definitely had his part to play in everything, but she knew it was more than that, too. At some point during the summer, she’d made the active decision to sleep with him again. That was on her.

Having been with Spike had changed things, though Anya still wasn’t entirely sure how. What they had was nothing more than sex. It had been a temporary balm to a hurting heart and, as such, it worked. It wasn’t what triggered her self-loathing and, yet, when she tried to retrace her steps and figure out when she last felt like herself, it was that moment on top of that table; him on top of her.

Xander had tried to make her feel like shit for doing it, but she refused to regret it. She’d set him right at the time, telling him straight that it was none of his business and that he had no right being upset about it. She still stood by that. And it wasn’t like she loved Spike or even wanted to date him. So what, she asked herself again, was the damn problem? Why had she developed the need to debase herself ever since by crawling back into bed with someone who had walked out on her on their wedding day of all days?

The image of Buffy’s expression, that night, flashed in Anya’s mind – how upset she’d been, and the way Xander had looked at her when Spike finally admitted what they had been doing.

That was the real crux of it, wasn’t it? Not that she had found solace in Spike’s arms, but that Spike would hurt Buffy like that. Xander told her what Spike had then gone on to try after that. Maybe that was what broke her: the knowledge that, despite how much Buffy and Spike clearly loved each other, they could and did damage each other so much. What hope did it leave for anyone else?

What did it matter that Xander didn’t love her anymore? What did anything matter when love didn’t make a damn bit of difference to anything?

\---

While things fell apart in the lives of everyone he left behind in Sunnydale, California, somewhere far, far away, Spike began fighting for his life all over again.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Buffy had got back to her house after searching all around town for Spike, Dawn had gone back to her own room and was fast asleep. In the morning, she asked if Buffy had found him and looked genuinely sad when she said no. There was no point in telling her just how close she’d come, it only made the whole thing more sad; And as much as Buffy was trying to hide from feelings less these days, she didn’t want to depress her sister even further.

They hugged when Dawn left for school, after which Buffy found herself sitting around with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Sure, there were a number of people she could call, but none of them would be the person she actually wanted to hear. Even the brief chat with Giles to tell him Spike was gone was too much. She could feel his disapproval down the phone, leeching at her.

With a groan, Buffy heaved herself off the couch and took herself for a walk, wondering all the while exactly how unprofessional it would be if she turned up for her new job six days early, just for the distraction.

Without a job hunt to occupy her, she was left to the mercy of her thoughts. And her thoughts, as it turned out, were not feeling merciful. So many of them focused on Spike and the hundreds of ways things could have been so easily fixed between them if only she’d taken a second to stop and think about it at the time. Damn hindsight.

Buffy was in the middle of town before she thought about where her feet were idly taking her. As she came up on the Magic Box, she decided she actually would rather be alone than face anyone in there. At least, that was until she saw Tara through the window, talking with Anya. As if on autopilot, she ran the rest of the way and swung the door open so hard, the bell above it sounded as if it was about to fall off.

“Hey!” yelled Anya. “I just fixed that.”

Buffy bit her lip, stopping in her tracks. Just what was it she’d been thinking, about not rushing into things without thinking? She gave herself a mental shove and offered Anya an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

Anya rolled her eyes and huffed off to the back room where all the stock was still being sorted, leaving Tara to give Buffy an odd, knowing little look.

Half-jokingly, Buffy said, “You can’t read thoughts with this new higher being gig you got going on now, can you?”

Tara smiled. “Only the thoughts that are written all over people’s faces,” she said. “Same as before.”

Buffy looked at her feet, wondering just how obvious she was to anyone who actually paid attention. Glancing up again, she saw Tara was still giving her a grin, so figured that answered that question.

“So, uh…” she began, her fingers twitching with the lack of something to twiddle. “When did you get back?”

“Back?” questioned Tara, gesturing for them to sit at the research table.

Buffy took her seat. “Yeah, you know, from where you went with Spike,” she said, as casually as she could, despite knowing she wouldn’t be fooling even the least observant of her friends at this point, if they were around.

“Oh,” said Tara, the smile returning to her face. “With the time difference, it’s almost like I’m there now.”

“Right,” said Buffy, feeling both incredibly dumb and lame without the slightest clue about how to ask what she really wanted. Why did conversations never follow the scripts she planned out in her head? Everything with Spike was still so difficult to put into words, so she opted for more familiar ground to warm the conversation up.

“Angel,” she said. “What’s the deal with him?”

It took Tara a couple of attempts at a reply before she finally said, “There’s a lot of ways I could answer that.”

“Okay,” said Buffy. “Try one of them. How come he’s not part of the same soul scenario as the rest of us?” The question came out with more force than she intended, the inclusion of the word ‘soul’ actually surprising Buffy with how much it hurt. She’d been focused so much on Spike being back and then being gone again, she hadn’t taken time to really process all of the other stuff. Now, it was like she was back in the horrors of the conversation of the day before. Had it really only been a day?

More gently she added, “I don’t mean to pry. I know that, whatever it is, it’s his business and that doesn’t really have anything to do with me, these days, but I want to understand. Are you trying to tell me the difference between Angelus and Angel is some kind of cosmic placebo effect? That it only makes a change to his personality because he expected it to? Why else would there be any effect at all, if all souls mean is that you can’t get to…” she looked away before putting the word “places” where she found herself unable to say ‘heaven.’

“Angel is different because of the curse. The Powers made it serve a purpose,” said Tara.

Buffy looked back at her, the response having irked her for reasons she couldn’t fully put her finger on. She found herself snapping again. “Because, what? If they hadn’t interfered he wouldn’t really have changed at all? Is that what you’re telling me – that he really is a monster?”

“He’s not,” said Tara, softly, as if trying to delicately deescalate a hostage situation.

“But only because the Powers made him that way,” Buffy pressed, hating how much it was bothering her, especially when this was supposed to be the warm-up conversation to what really mattered. “He can’t be good of his own free will.”

With a nervous lilt to her voice, Tara said, “Would you believe me if I said free will is actually a lot more complicated than it sounds?”

Buffy snorted and threw up her hands, too exasperated to get any angrier. “You know what? I do believe you.” She shook her head. “It’s like, the more I find out, the less things make sense. Maybe we should just leave the whole Angel situation alone. I mean, however it works, it seems to work for him. Whatever difference it would have made to me once clearly isn’t a factor now.”

“Now that you’re in love with Spike?” said Tara.

Buffy leaned away from her. “What? Love? Spike? I didn’t say–”

Tara gave her a sympathetic look. “I can see what’s written all over your face,” she reminded her.

“Right,” said Buffy, feeling her cheeks flame. “That.”

“He’ll be okay, you know. He’s strong. I think he’ll get through it.”

“You think?” said Buffy. “As in, you don’t know for sure?” She was liking this conversation less and less the longer it went on. Wanting to finally get to the crux of it, she said, “Tara, I can’t lose him. I know things have been… _difficult_ between us, but–”

“But you love him,” Tara said again, as if it was the most simple thing in the world.

Right then, a million confessions rose in Buffy’s throat and she fought the urge to cry at how badly she’d screwed everything up. Before she could say anything else, though, Tara added, “I think I have something that will help,” and conjured an orb out of thin air to hover above her hand. “Look into it and you’ll be able to see how he’s doing. He won’t be able to see you, and there’s no sound but–” she stopped and frowned.

Buffy sat forward in time to see the image of Spike duck out of the way of what looked like a giant meteorite and fall into a crater of lava instead. Eyes wide, she couldn’t look away as she opened her mouth to scream.

“Hang on,” said Tara, before the sound passed her lips. “I can help.” And she zipped off, leaving Buffy with the orb in front of her, where Tara’s image appeared a second later beside Spike, helping him up. Their mouths were moving in frantic motion and Buffy wished she knew how to read lips.

After a brief lull in oncoming fireballs, Tara’s speech slowed and Buffy saw her gesture outwards, as if to the orb. Spike looked up and Buffy could see his eyes, still piercing blue despite the soot smeared either side of them. She was still looking intently at him when Tara faded from his side and appeared back in the room beside her.

“I’m trying to help out where I can,” she said casually.

Buffy pulled her eyes away from Spike long enough to give her a look of horrified awe. “What is that place?”

“It’s a hell dimension,” said Tara. “The first of three places Spike has to go through before he gets to the home planet of the demon he needs to fight. Heavy with the fire and brimstone.”

“Fire!” exclaimed Buffy. “You sent him to a place with fire? Don’t you know he’s flammable?!”

Tara lowered her eyes, sounding distinctly less sure as she reiterated, “He’s strong, remember? He can do this.”

Buffy shook her head and looked back at the orb where Spike, too, was looking unsure. “You told him I was watching?”

“Yeah,” said Tara. “I thought maybe it would help. You know, to know that you still care.”

It wasn’t much, but Buffy hoped to god it was enough.


	9. Chapter 9

Buffy felt her heartbeat skip a little as he slid his arms around her.

“Mmm,” she moaned low in her throat, leaning into the embrace. “There you are.” She felt him smile against her throat.

His voice was warm and husky as he said, “Missed me, did you?”

“Definitely,” she agreed, basking in the feel of him, his body strong and solid behind her. His grip lessened a little, allowing her to roll and face him. A small gasp played on her lips at how bright his eyes were in the dim light. They were awe-filled and looking deep, deep inside her, as if to her very soul.

Spike leaned in to kiss her, but Buffy felt her stomach swirl. Placing one hand to her belly, she pressed the other to his chest to get some room. Suddenly, it was as if she couldn’t breathe. Spike was still looking at her, though now with a clear expression of hurt etched across his face. She opened her mouth to apologize, but what came out was a scream.

Her soul. That was it. He looked at her and saw her soul, but it wasn’t there.

Buffy looked around as her bedroom began to shake and a void opened up inside her chest, pulling her down into the blackness. She reached for Spike, but now he was too far away. She couldn’t reach his hand as she fell and fell and was sucked into nothingness.

 

Buffy sat upright, gasping for breath. She pushed the too-constricting covers off her overheated skin and looked around, trying to center herself. The clock on the other side of the room ticked too loud, but the fact that she could see it told her dawn was starting to break. There wasn’t enough light in the room to actually read the numbers or anything like that – just enough to make out the outline of things and feel orientated by their familiarity.

For a second, she closed her eyes but was assaulted by the afterimage of Spike’s face when she pushed him away. It hardly took an expert to try and figure out what inspired that particular aspect of the dream.

Guilt flooded her system even as she felt taken over by the feeling of loss. She’s spent all summer without Spike but, now that she was so close to having him back in her life, it was weirdly harder to bear. On top of that, there was the horror-realization of being soulless, the shock of which had not faded with time, and the uncomfortable, aching dampness between her legs. As if there wasn’t already enough things for her to sort through.

Idly, Buffy wondered if having a little personal time would help take her mind off everything else, but the mood was kinda lost, even if the physical desire still stirred. And plus, wouldn’t it be weird to do… _that_ – thinking of him in that way – while he faced god-knows-what danger?

Buffy’s stomach plummeted again as she considered afresh just how much death and destruction she had sent him into. Her hands fumbled to pull open top drawer of her nightstand and she sighed a little in relief when the soft glow of the orb spilled out of the opening. At least with it, she could check on him.

Taking the orb out fully, Buffy placed it in front of her, where it sat, midair, at eye level. It took her a moment to figure out what she was seeing because, wherever Spike was, it didn’t have the same red, molten landscape she’d seen before. It was kinda dark, in fact. After taking a second to adjust her eyes, she could see the shadow of him shifting around. Another second after that, the image before her became clear as she realized he was in a cave, lying down, half turned away from her.

While of course glad that he was alive and had found shelter, his attempts at resting clearly weren’t going to plan as he was fidgeting a lot, even for him. Buffy wondered if he was hurt and trying not to put weight on certain parts of his body, but then she caught the look in his eye – half shy, half wanton.

She knew that look.

Buffy bit her lip as she tried to figure out what to do. A voice in the back of her mind said that it was wrong to watch, but a deeper part of her didn’t want to look away. He knew that she _could_ watch him, which explained the shy part of his expression, but he didn’t know that she actually _was_ looking right then.

Would he mind her looking? Once upon a time, she’d have no doubt that he’d take great joy in having her play the voyeur, but a lot of water had gone under the bridge since then.

Before she finished making up her mind, she saw his hand sneak under the waistband of his pants. It hesitated and he swallowed, looking around again, like a kid about to steal some cookies. He felt guilty, she realized. Was that what their time together had done to him – made the guy who was once one of the most confident people on earth feel bad for having needs and indulging urges?

Buffy shook her head. Even as she questioned it, she felt her own guilt rise up once more. Her resolve to sort out all of the lingering baggage between them strengthened. In the meantime, though, Spike’s hand had begun to move again. He hadn’t taken his pants off, but the stroking motion had become more fervent despite the lack of room he’d given himself in which to maneuver.

By this point, Buffy’s eyes were transfixed. She couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. And she realized that, actually, no part of her was trying to convince her to do that anymore. At some point, she’d realized what she wanted and just embraced it. Why had that been so difficult before? Why had it taken her literal years to just enjoy what she had in front of her? Spike had practically offered himself to her on a silver platter and she’d pushed him away.

She was just wondering if it was too late to get back what they lost when she saw his lips move. Spike was clearly lost in his actions. He had his eyes closed and was no longer even remotely subtle as he got himself off.

Something within Buffy simultaneously broke and mended itself when she saw the shape of the unmistakable word fall from his mouth as he came: _“Buffy.”_


	10. Chapter 10

Spike felt awful, the pain less to do with the injuries to his back and legs and everything to do with the soul in his chest. Did souls live in your chest? It seemed like a perfectly reasonable place to imagine them.

He sighed, exhausted with his wayward thoughts. They were almost as bad as his wayward feelings, which... he decided not to think about.

It still hadn’t quite sunk in that the chip was gone and, in the grand scheme of things, that was a relatively minor development.

To Spike, it felt both big and small and he had no doubt that it would be considered a very major deal breaker among the majority of the Scoobies upon his return. _If_ he returned. He’d changed his mind back and forth several times about whether it was for the best and, more importantly, if it was what Buffy wanted. He could return to earth and bugger off anywhere other than Sunnydale and just leave her to it, maybe. _If_ he survived.

Spike didn’t know if he wanted to survive.

One thing he was in full support of was Dawn remaining safe so, for that reason if nothing else, he soldiered on.

As he exited the cave he’d spent the night in, tossing furtive glances all around him, Spike felt his soul weigh on him once more. He felt guilty about it, he realized. He felt guilty about a lot, and he’d thought maybe the soul was the solution, but it only seemed to complicate things more.

Outside the cave, three suns were burning, one on the horizon and two directly overhead. Spike shielded his eyes as they adjusted to the change in brightness.

Whatever the suns were made out of, they didn’t burn his skin, but he was sure they were doing _something_ to him. He could feel something akin to a deep cellular tan creep across his flesh, even under his clothes. That, and it was hot as hell. He’d actively had to stop himself from breathing just so the weird atmosphere remained outside of him rather than in his lungs as well.

The wind was picking up, starting yet another dust storm, but at least the meteor shower of the day before hadn’t begun again. Spike would be glad to leave the godforsaken place and move on, except he had no real idea if plane of existence number two would be any better. Tara had explained some things and been vague on others but Spike definitely did not feel clued in.

What he knew for certain was that, soon, suns two and three would eclipse each other and it was the sign for him to get his arse through a portal that should appear… maybe two or three meters to his left? With the sand whipping about, it was easy to lose your bearings.

Spike looked back at the cave entrance before pulling out the compass-cum-mystical-pocket-watch Tara had given him and taking a few steps forward.

 

\---

 

Tara stepped forward and took what would have been a steadying breath if her lungs were corporeal and air was more than just an artificial construct in the heavenly realms.

Before her, there was a viewing orb much like the one she’d given Buffy, only bigger and with a kind of split-screen effect that allowed her to see Spike on one half and Buffy on the other.

Spike was looking at the compass Tara had given him while Buffy was looking at Spike look at the compass through the orb Tara had given her.

“Would you like to explain your actions?” came a booming voice from all around.

“I did what I needed to do,” said Tara, wishing she had something to direct her words at. The PTB almost never showed themselves in a physical form, even to her. It was disconcerting, and she was pretty sure that’s exactly why they did it.

“You did not need to give the Champions these tools,” said the Voice.

Tara hoped her tone didn’t belay her discomfort as she said, “You gave me this assignment because you trusted I could do it. You didn’t tell me how to do it, so I’m doing it the only way I know how.”

The Voice made a ‘ _hmm_ ’-ing sound which she wasn’t sure how to interpret; just like everything else.

“Do you want me to take the tools back?” she asked, thankful when they said not to bother.

“The damage has been done,” they said. “We warn you not to interfere more.”

“Okay,” said Tara, no matter that she had no idea how to do her job without interfering or what they were even counting as interference in the first place.

She beamed back to the Magic Box before she could be asked any more difficult questions and felt her insubstantial lungs gasp for breath at the sight of Willow walking into the store at the same moment.


	11. Chapter 11

_Author Note: Trigger warnings in affect for discussions of abuse._

* * *

Giles had been deeply embedded in research since his return to Sunnydale, though he still wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for. A mystical text that would tell him Tara was wrong about souls – that humans couldn’t lose them, and that his was therefore safe? Did he want a prophecy about Spike? Further details about the demon he was fighting, or the other worlds he was traveling through to reach it?

While Giles did, in fact, begin to research all of the topics on his list, he couldn’t find a single line of enquiry to focus on. It was by day three that he admitted the truth to himself: that he knew in his heart Tara was right and had rather lost the ability to care about much of the rest of it.

Indeed, maybe it was merely the distraction that research offered that he was after. No doubt, he wanted to help Buffy, but he worried that ship had already sailed.

She sat down heavily across from him while Anya hovered, seemingly torn between taking up the empty chair in front of her and rearranging the stock one last time before the grand reopening.

Giles opened his mouth to suggest they wait a few minutes before starting the meeting, to give the others time to arrive, then realized that there was no one else. Xander had gone somewhat AWOL since the last meeting, Tara was dead, though still completing missions for the Powers That Be, and Willow was giving Buffy a wide birth at her insistence and his request.

Seeing as Anya was only really present because he was paying her to be, and because she clearly had other things on her mind, Giles sighed and told her she could go ahead and get back to whatever it was she was doing before he called the ill-fated “meeting.”

She skipped off, apparently happy about her reprieve from research, leaving Giles and Buffy to look at each other.

“Just you and me, huh?”

Giles forced a smile. “So it would appear.”

Buffy groaned and laid her head on the table.

Giles was very tempted to join her. What he did instead was clear his throat and plow on. “The thing is,” he began, only to trail off when Buffy raised her head to look at him again.

“The thing is that you want me to kill Spike if–” she paused, then corrected herself “– _when_ he gets back. But you’re not sure how to bring it up. Am I right?”

When Giles only stuttered in reply, Buffy sat up fully to give him her complete attention. “So I’m right.” Her lip quivered ever so slightly. “Yay, me.”

“Buffy, I only mean to–”

“No! You don’t get to tell me you’re only looking out for my best interests. You lost that right when I needed you and you flew away.”

Giles’ heart clenched painfully. What could he say? She was right.

After a moment, he admitted, “I truly thought it for the best at the time, but now…” he took off his glasses but was too tired to needlessly wipe at them. “I can’t help but think that if I hadn’t gone, everything with you and Spike could have been avoided.”

Buffy dismissively waved a hand, apparently having got her anger under control again. “Nah. Me and Spike have been coming for a long time.” There was a beat as her eyes widened at her accidental double meaning. “I mean – things. They’ve been build-y for a while.”

“Indeed,” said Giles. He’d seen it himself but had been trying to pretend otherwise.

“Anyway,” said Buffy. “This isn’t about me and him.”

“Isn’t it?” Giles questioned.

“No. This is about you and me. I didn’t need you to protect me from Spike. I didn’t even need you to be my watcher, anymore. I just, for once, wanted someone in my life who would stand by me without dying or going away.”

A tear ran down her cheek and Giles’ heart shattered entirely. _So much for not being able to feel without a soul._

“Giles, I needed you. I begged you to say. Just like I begged Angel. You can say a lot of things about Spike, but he was here for me.”

Giles snorted. “Fat lot of good that did you.”

Buffy glared at him and he composed himself again.

“I don’t mean to be indelicate, Buffy, but Xander said–”

“Xander needs to mind his own business,” snapped Buffy. “Why don’t you ask me what happened, huh? Hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

Giles pursed his lips. He wanted to take her up on the offer, but how could he ask her to recount such details? He didn’t want to hear it – not if they confirmed what Xander said – but if they were to refute it, it would be a huge relief.

When he didn’t say anything, Buffy lowered her eyes and continued. “You have no idea what Spike and I were,” she said. “I didn’t even really understand it, at the time. But I started it. The whole thing – kissing him, and having sex – that was me.”

 _Oh._ Giles hadn’t been prepared for that tidbit of information. He’d assumed that Spike had taken advantage of Buffy’s vulnerability. Even so… “That doesn’t change–” he tried to say, but Buffy shook her head. She wasn’t done. God only knew what she’d admit to next.

“I hurt him, Giles. Badly, and a lot, all the while still sleeping with him and telling him he couldn’t ever tell anyone. That we were nothing.” She looked deep in Giles’ eyes, her own swimming with tears. “I told him that _he_ was nothing.”

_Dear lord._

“I pushed and pushed and he took it. He wouldn’t leave; wouldn't stop loving me. I punished him for it. I always told him no, then went ahead and took what I wanted anyway.” Buffy’s whole body shook as she tried to hold back sobs and continue talking.

“Take Spike out of the equation. Pretend for a second that it was someone else, or that the positions were turned around. My actions were horrible. I kept telling myself that they didn’t matter, because he was just this soulless thing, right? He couldn’t feel anything. It wasn’t real love.”

Buffy took a deep, steadying breath, but still she wasn’t done.

“If anyone else had done those things, Giles, there wouldn't be a question. It’s abuse. No two ways about it. What he did – what he tried to do – came at the end of all that. And I was hurt at the time, sure, but I know that that’s not what he was trying to do. Spike was, in his own twisted way, just trying to get me to be with him again. Even as bad as I was. Who am I to condemn him when I’m the one that twisted him up?”

Giles was speechless. He hoped to god that Buffy wasn’t expecting him to answer her question, because he hadn’t the faintest idea where to begin. The things Buffy claimed to do… he shook his head, barely able to believe it. He felt sick because, despite the overwhelming need to deny it, he did believe. That’s how much Buffy had been hurting. And part of that hurt had been compounded by him. Indeed, Buffy’s wretched attitude in absolving herself from blame in her treatment of Spike had been borne in his teachings – in the Watcher’s Counsel’s obsession with black and white, good and evil, the souled and the soulless. All of led back to him and how he’d first steered her wrong and then abandoned her to float, adrift, with no support but from the one source she’d been taught to loathe.

Giles wanted to reach out and take her hand, but what right did he have for any kind of closeness now? “Buffy,” he said, finally finding his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” said Buffy. “Me too.”

They took time to sit together in silence before Giles poured them both a drink. Buffy surprised him in how well she threw back the whiskey, and Giles realized that it must have been another comfort Spike offered her in his absence.

Still unsure what to do beyond getting drunk, Giles was relieved to have a distraction provided for him by means of the bell above the door jingling. His relief was short-lived, however, when he saw that it was Willow.

Willow, who Buffy had told to leave.

Willow, who had betrayed Buffy; and Willow who he had told to stay, despite the Slayer’s wishes.

Giles had felt almost a sense of superiority in the group, once, but now he realized he’d been as entrenched in betrayal as the rest of them.

He had nothing to say for himself as Buffy, too, looked up and saw her former friend. She wiped her eyes and got up to – talk to her? Confront her? – Giles didn’t know and didn’t get to find out, as Tara appeared in the Magic Box the next moment, her presence making everyone take another second to access the new scene they found themselves in.

Where were any of them going to go from here?


	12. Chapter 12

Buffy stood silently in front of Willow, her arms folded, as Willow’s gaze moved between her and Tara. She supposed the hesitation made sense. Willow would want to talk to Tara, but Buffy guessed it was herself that the Witch had actually come to see, and it wasn’t like she could avoid the interaction now.

So Buffy waited. The moment stretched, the air thick with tension, until Willow’s eyes finally dropped from Tara and she took a step towards the Slayer.

“Uh, hi.”

Buffy pursed her lips. Tara made some excuse about needing to talk to Anya in the back room, then disappeared out that way leaving Giles to hover in the middle distance, no doubt wondering if he too should be elsewhere or stepping forward to mediate.

“Can we talk?” asked Willow.

“I’ll listen,” said Buffy, begrudgingly charitable. She gave Giles a nod to tell him it was okay to leave them but paired it with a look that also said she knew the reason Willow was still in town was because of him.

He sputtered and wandered off. Buffy figured she’d left him with a lot to think about.

“Do you wanna sit?” she asked Willow. It was the best olive branch she could come up with, given the circumstances.

“N-no,” said Willow. “I…” she swallowed, “I should just get this out.” When Buffy said nothing else, Willow continued, “I’m sorry. I know I’ve told you that a lot over the past year – sometimes even while I was still doing the thing I was supposed to be sorry for, and so often that it’s almost lost its meaning – but I feel like I need to keep saying it. Because it’s like it’s never enough, you know? And it’s true. I mean it. I am sorry, Buffy.”

She looked at Buffy, expecting a response, then got to her conclusion when she remained silent. “I hurt you, and I see that now,” said Willow. “I was wondering, maybe, if there was something I can do to make it right?”

Finally, Buffy’s shoulders slumped. She sighed and rubbed her temple, deciding to take a seat even if Willow wanted to remain standing for the grand-gesture-ness of it or whatever.

“I don’t know, Will. What’s done is done and there’s no changing that. You can change, and Giles tells me that you have – he wouldn’t have come back here with you otherwise – but I guess I need more time. I know that you didn’t know the implications of your resurrection spell, which makes it both better and worse, because you _should_ have known. But I get that you weren’t trying to hurt me intentionally. Deep down, I do get that. And you couldn't have known about the whole soul thing. I guess I shouldn’t be mad at you for that part – not now, anyway.”

Willow looked hopeful with the turn in the conversation, but Buffy went on to say, “I am mad. I don’t even care that I shouldn't be.”

The light in Willow’s eyes dulled again, but again Buffy wasn’t done.

“It was wrong of me to slap you,” she continued. “We all have our own issues to deal with, and lashing out is mine. I know I can’t expect you to leave town – this is your home, you’ve lived here longer than me. Your parents are here – but I am gonna ask you for space. If you can give me that I think we’ll both be better off.”

“O-okay,” said Willow, her lip trembling. “That’s fair.”

Buffy thought it was more than fair, but she didn’t bother correcting her. “I’m exhausted by all this,” she said instead. “I don’t want to be defensive and all walking on eggshells. Let’s just take things slow. I’m gonna go home. Tell Giles I’ll talk to him later.”

“Okay,” repeated Willow, no small amount of relief now on her face. “Thanks, Buffy.”

Buffy didn’t reply. After the difficulty of the conversations she’d had, all she wanted to do was relax and check up on Spike. The second she was through her front door, she slipped off her shoes and took the viewing orb out to look at it.

\--- 

The second world Spike had to pass through on his journey was a land without shrimp, but that wasn’t the only difference between it and earth. It was like a twisted, nightmare version of the place he knew; full of illusions, where crow-like creatures with the faces of those he loved whispered twisted half-truths and dirty secrets.

At least, Spike told himself the things they said were only half true, if only to make his stay bearable.

A big part of him genuinely believed, on an emotional level, that Buffy would never forgive him and that he was the worthless monster she said he was, but his logical side presented the fact that she was watching over him. That must mean she cared, right?

The creatures said no.

“She watches to make sure you do no more harm,” they said. “She keeps an eye because she does not trust you. She should never trust you.”

Spike tried his best to ignore the voices, but it didn’t do much good. The little amount of hope he’d built up surrounding the idea of returning to Sunnydale grew ever smaller and he counted the hours until it was time to move on once more.  

\---

Willow could feel uncertainty clawing at her as she walked the short distance to the Magic Box’s back room. She found Tara sat on a stack of workout mats, staring into thin air.

Willow figured it wasn't really sitting, since Tara had no real form, and found herself curious about the physics of it. She put the thought aside in the next moment. It was a distraction. Or it was supposed to be. Willow had been trying not to think about how much she ached, being so close to her love without being able to reach her, but thinking about her incorporealness only drove the hurt harder home.

She’d never get to touch her again. Never get to kiss her.

Willow cast her eyes to the floor and focused on her steps as she came further into the room. Clearly, Tara’s pretext of needing to talk to Anya hadn’t lasted long. What was there to talk about now, anyway? It was like Buffy said, what was done was done.

Knowing that didn't change the fact that Willow wanted to spill her guts to Tara and tell her everything – ask her everything – but it wasn’t just her being dead that put distance between them. She must have seen what she’d done in the aftermath. What she’d tried to do.

Even if they could touch and feel each other, Willow was pretty sure Tara would never want her near her again. Even so, she came to a stop just at the edge of her personal space.

Tara’s gaze unclouded and she smiled at her.

The knife in Willow’s gut twisted at the sight of it.

“Hi,” she said lamely, not knowing how else to start.

“Hey,” said Tara. She was still smiling, her voice serene.

Willow tried not to cry. She had planned what she would say a thousand times but suddenly found herself without words. Tara surprised her by going first.

“It hurts,” she said, only to rush to explain herself when Willow gasped. “I mean, not this. N-not being dead. Well, yes, that is what I mean but…” she stopped herself and took a breath. “I’m not saying this right. I already told you that I’m okay and I am, physically. What I meant was that I miss you, Willow.”

Fat tears rolled down Willow’s cheeks, her attempts to keep them at bay entirely forgotten.

“I miss you too,” she managed, though her voice was weak. She wanted nothing more than to hug Tara in that moment; to hold her close and be able to bury her nose in her hair.

Her arms felt dead with the lack of her.

“I’m sorry,” she found herself saying for the second time that day. “Tara, please. Forgive me.”

Tara smiled her sweet smile, but it had turned watery. It looked like she felt as heartbroken as Willow, and Willow wondered if she was physically able to cry as a higher being. It definitely seemed like she needed to.

“I don’t need to forgive you,” she said. “The things that happened before I died don’t matter now, and the things after aren’t mine to forgive. You spoke to Buffy?”

Willow nodded, feeling awed by the grace of the response. “Yeah, she… she said she needs more time.”

“So do you,” said Tara.

 _I need you_ , Willow wanted to scream, but she held it back. “What happens when Spike’s mission is done?” she asked instead. “Will you still be around?” She had to ask, but she really wasn’t sure she was ready to know the answer. Both yes and no would be torture.

She didn’t need to worry about that, though, because Tara surprised her again by saying instead, “I’m working on a plan.”


	13. Chapter 13

Dawn doodled in her notebook as her history teacher droned on and on about… _something_. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to even be sure of the topic at hand. It took Mr Simmons calling her name three times before she looked up. The whole class stared as the teacher stood there, a note in hand.

Dawn swallowed. “What?”

“You’ve been called to the office,” he said, gesturing to the door. “On you go then.”

“Err, right.” She stood up and packed her things, hoping she wasn’t in too much trouble. Buffy would be furious if she was. Her steps hurried towards the principal’s office only to stop at the desk outside his door, where Buffy herself was sat.

“Hey,” she greeted, smiling. “I hope you don’t mind me pulling you from class.”

Dawn looked between her and the Principal’s door. “That was you?”

Buffy’s smile flipped into a frown. “You were expecting to be in trouble? Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” Dawn shrugged her backpack off her shoulder and took a seat. “What’s the what? This is your new job?”

Buffy beamed again. “First day. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah…” Dawn cast her eyes around the room, wondering once more why Buffy’s first use of her power would be to summon her.

Principal Wood’s door opened and he stepped out to join them.

“Dawn, hi,” he said, also smiling.

Dawn’s eyes narrowed. They were definitely up to something. “What’s going on?”

Buffy and the principal shared a look, then Buffy said, “I have a mission for you.”

“You,” said Dawn, “In your role as a guidance counselor?”

“Buffy is more of a… caretaker,” said Robin. “I gave her this job so that she can keep an eye on the Hellmouth and its effect on the students.”

Dawn’s eyes widened at him, then flashed to Buffy.

“I know,” she said. “I was surprised too. Turns out, his mom was a slayer. He knows all about me being the chosen one.”

“I want to facilitate Buffy in her role,” affirmed Robin.

“With pay,” added Buffy. Her smile practically stretched from ear to ear. Dawn didn’t know when she’d last seen her so happy.

“What’s it got to do with me?” she asked.

“You’re going to help,” said Buffy. “As part of the student body, you’ll see and hear things that I won’t. When anything creepy comes up, you can tell me. Like a special informant.”

“Right,” said Dawn. “More responsibility, _yay_.”

Buffy’s smile faded a little. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Dawn cast a look at the principal and he straightened from where he’d been perched on the edge of Buffy’s desk. “I'll let you two talk in private. Let me know if you need anything.”

Buffy watched him retreat back into his office then returned her gaze to Dawn. “Come on, spill.”

Dawn bit her lip. “I’ve just been thinking about things.”

“Okay,” said Buffy warily. “Why do you sound like someone’s kicked your puppy?”

It took Dawn a moment before she could find a way to express what was bothering her. She didn’t want to take the shine off Buffy’s excitement, but she couldn’t force herself to be enthusiastic either.

“I think I’m sick of pretending,” she said at last.

Buffy sat forward. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m an ancient source of mystical energy. Why am I even bothering with high school?”

“Dawn,” said Buffy reproachfully.

“What? It’s true.”

“Yes,” Buffy agreed. “It is true, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re human now. That means going to school. Didn’t we go through this last year? I told you that if you skip class then social services might take you away.”

“Not if they can’t find me,” said Dawn.

Buffy’s eyes widened in panic. “Don’t joke about that!”

“I’m not,” said Dawn. “I don’t mean running away, or whatever, I was thinking about this body – this life – being created for me. I’m only a teenager because that’s how the monks made me. What if I could be made older, or could make it so I’m not officially on any record, like Spike and Angel must be?”

Her face stuck somewhere between horror and shock, Buffy took a deep breath before answering. “That’s a lot of power,” she said, carefully. “I don’t even know the kinds of magic that would involve. And, what, all so you can avoid homework?”

“No!” Dawn snapped. “Don’t trivialize this. You asked what’s wrong and I’m telling you. I…” she paused to calm down a little. “I’m not sure this is the life I want.”

Buffy opened her mouth to reply, then thought better of it. It took her three attempts to finally say, “I’m glad you brought this to me, and I’m sorry I was dismissive. But this is a big thing you’re talking about here. Let’s not rush into anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Dawn agreed grudgingly. “I won’t rush, but I’m not promising to give up on the idea either.”

Buffy frowned, then suggested she talk to Anya.

“Anya?” Dawn questioned. “What’s she got to do with anything?”

“She was a very powerful, thousand-year-old demon who got caught in the body of a seventeen-year-old. She might relate.”

“Hmm,” said Dawn. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“We’ll talk about this again later?” said Buffy hopefully, and Dawn agreed. She did feel better for airing at least some of her thoughts on the matter.

“Can I ask something else?”

“Shoot,” said Buffy. “No one else knows I’m here yet, so my schedule’s wide open.”

Dawn smiled at her. “You’re really enjoying this job, huh?”

“Hey, it beats flipping burgers. Now, what did you wanna ask?”

The smile slipped from Dawn’s lips again. “I was wondering something.”

“Yeah?” said Buffy, beginning to look worried again.

“Do you think I’m evil?”

“ _What?!_ ” Buffy said too loud, then seemed to catch herself and lower her voice again. “What kind of question is that? Of course you’re not evil!”

“I know I’m not,” said Dawn just as quickly, “I’m asking what _you_ think.”

Buffy’s brow creased, and Dawn went on to say, “It’s another thing I’ve been thinking about: how you always made such a big deal about souls before. You said that Spike was evil because he didn’t have one, and Angel was good because he did. Well, I don’t have one, so…”

“Oh,” said Buffy. The word escaped her like her heart was breaking and Dawn hated herself for bringing it up, but she just couldn’t leave it as another big elephant in the room they weren’t gonna acknowledge.

“Dawn, I used to think a lot of things. A lot of wrong things. I don’t blame you for being confused. _I_ was confused, and I’m sorry.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t think I’m evil?” Dawn pressed.

“No,” said Buffy. “I know you’re not. There isn’t a doubt in my mind.”

“Okay,” said Dawn, not entirely satisfied that they’d talked the whole thing out, but it was enough for now. She didn’t want to give Buffy anything else that might drag her down again, so she changed the subject. “This whole mission thing. How’s that gonna work?”

She had expected Buffy to say it would be super casual and not something that would change Dawn’s day-to-day school life much, so was pretty horrified when she announced she was going to be hall monitor.

“I’m going to be what?” she balked. “Why? That’s not fair!”

“I know it sounds lame,” said Buffy, “But it means you can get out of class easily if something happens. You won’t need to get permission to go find out what’s going on if someone starts screaming in the hallway or something.”

Dawn frowned. It did make sense, but that didn’t make her like it any better. “This is going to make me _so_ popular,” she groused.

Buffy flashed her a sympathetic smile. “So you’ll do it?”

“Yeah,” said Dawn, sighing. “Gotta fight that good fight.”

“Thank you,” Buffy told her earnestly. “This talk. It’s been good.” Then, when Dawn still didn’t stand up, she asked, “Is there something else?”

Dawn looked contemplative. “The principal. I think he likes you.”

Buffy ducked her eyes. “Yeah, he might have asked me out on a date already.”

_Oooh!_ Dawn sat forward in her chair. “What did you say?”

“I said no. It would be unprofessional.”

Dawn gave her a look. “Is that the only reason?”

It looked like Buffy wasn’t going to reply but, after a round of blushing, finally said, “No.”

_Good_ , thought Dawn. _She still loves Spike._ That piece of information satisfied her if nothing else.


	14. Chapter 14

“At least you don’t remember it,” Anya was saying. “It’s harder to miss your power if you don’t remember having it.”

Dawn frowned. It wasn’t a thought she could find much comfort in, but it at least made sense.

“It’s the same with Buffy,” Anya continued. “The problem isn’t that she went to heaven or even that she was brought back, it’s that now she is back, she _remembers._ It’s comparing then to now that’s been killing her more than anything else.”

“No!” said Dawn, horrified. Again, it wasn’t that she disagreed with what Anya was saying, just how awful the sentiment behind it was. “It’s like you’re saying Willow was right in trying to take those memories away from Buffy.”

“God no!” exclaimed Anya. She gave a dismissive wave of her hand, like Dawn was being an idiot jumping to conclusions when that had been the clear implication behind her words.

“Then what?” she pressed.

“The memories make it harder, but they’re important,” Anya explained, very slowly. “Taking them away doesn’t make it easier again. You can’t go back.”

Dawn frowned some more, sure they were getting sidetracked and annoyed with Anya for talking down to her, like she was still twelve or whatever. She’d been asking her about what it was like going from being super powerful to a puny human teenager, like Buffy suggested, but so far the ‘it could be worse’ response hadn’t helped.

Anya didn’t seem to notice. She was still talking, now using herself as an example to prove her point. “I went back to being a demon after Xander, you know, because that was something I knew. Or I thought I did. It wasn’t the same. That’s why I gave it up again.” She shrugged. “This is my life now.”

“Wait.” Dawn blinked at her. “You gave it up again? You mean you’re not a demon anymore? Since when?”

It was Anya’s turn to look confused. “ _Months_ ago,” she answered. “At the start of the summer.” Her hands went to her hips. “You’re telling me you didn’t notice?”

“Uhh…” Dawn’s mouth opened and closed of its own accord. Because what could she say? No one had mentioned it, and she didn’t even think it was in the willfully ignorant kind of way the Scoobies were used to.

To her shame, Dawn wondered if _anyone_ had actually been paying enough attention to Anya to know what was going on in her life. This was the first real conversion they’d had, one-to-one, maybe ever. She swallowed, still at a loss for how to reply, and was saved in the next second by Xander making himself known. He walked into the room from where he had been standing just outside the door.

He was looking directly at Anya, his face completely serious. Dawn found the expression pretty unnerving, and it occurred to her that he only seemed to have two settings: joking or mad.

He came to a stop in front of Anya. “Did I just hear that? You’re not a demon anymore?”

Anya stared at him and Dawn could pinpoint the second her heart broke. It was broadcast all over her face. Because shit, not even Xander had any idea about this major thing, and he was the closest person to her.

Dawn crept out of the room as Anya and Xander continued to stand there, tension rising all around them. She didn’t want to be there when the words started flying and, plus, there was a book she wanted to check out from the restricted section.

As she snuck past Giles as quietly as she could, she tried to process what just happened. Her friends had lost souls and they had no idea. Anya had gone from human to demon to human, then back to demon only to give it all up to be human again, and not one of them freaking thought to ask her what all that was about.

Maybe it did put Dawn’s issues into perspective after all.

\---

Giles did his best to ignore the sound of raised voices coming from the back room and turned his body into the corner behind the Magic Box’s counter so he could have at least the illusion of privacy.

The hold music continued to jingle in his left ear as he tried his best to flick through his paperwork with just his right hand.

He had a long list of items to work through before everything would be settled, but at least his mind had finally set itself on a course. In some ways, it was a difficult decision, but there was a level of simplicity to it as well.

Giles’ business was in Sunnydale. His friends were here – people he considered to be his family – and his responsibilities.

His life was in Sunnydale.

He was going to stay.

The call connected at long last. Giles breathed a sigh of relief. “Hello, yes, I wish to speak to a mortgage advisor please.”

\---

“What going on?” demanded Xander.

Anya looked at him, barely recognizing the man she loved and hating that her chin wobbled. “What’s going on, Xander, is that you’re happy to sleep with me to distract yourself from your own pitiful existence but you clearly don’t give a shit about me.” She looked away, not wanting him to see the tears forming in her eyes.

“And to think, all I’ve done has been about you. I went back to vengeance because I was mad at you, and then I gave it up because it wasn’t really me anymore. You’d got in my head about good and evil and having a soul and demons being bad, but when I turned away from that, it didn’t change anything.” She glared at him again, now too angry to give a damn about crying. “And you were so self-involved, you were oblivious to all of it!”

“But you didn’t say anything!” he protested.

“You didn’t _ask_!” Anya yelled. “Shouldn’t it have been obvious?”

“You— but—” Xander stammered, before finally saying, “ _No_. I mean, I don’t have senses for things like that? How could I? I’m not a dem—” he cut himself off, but not quickly enough.

“You’re not a _demon_?” Anya snapped. “You couldn’t _sense_ that I was different? How about using your damn eyes, Xander! You didn’t question the fact that I stopped going out, looking for clients? You know I spend my days here or with you. How do you _not_ know that?!” her voice lowered again as she ran out of steam and swung from anger back to hurt.

Xander put up a hand. “Wait. Just— just hang on a second. Let me get my head around this.”

Anya shook her head, utterly exhausted. “What’s the point?” she asked, moving towards the door to the main shop so she could grab her things and go home early. _Her_ home, not Xander’s apartment. She didn’t think she’d be back there again now.

Xander was still stood there looking dumbfounded. “Are you breaking up with me?”

A mirthless laugh escaped Anya’s lips. “No, Xander,” she said on a sigh, only to see what looked like relief flash in his eyes. “We weren’t dating, remember? You made that quite clear. I can’t end a relationship we weren’t in.”

She paused to look at him again. “What even was this to you? Did you ever figure out what you wanted?”

Xander opened his mouth but no words came out.

Anya bit her lip and tried to fight off a fresh batch of tears. “You thought I was a demon. I guess maybe that meant it didn’t matter how you treated me. Or maybe you’ll justify it now because you know you don’t have a soul.” She shook her head. “And you were so self-righteous about Buffy being with Spike. Why don’t you grow up, Xander.”


	15. Chapter 15

It was all too much. Xander wasn’t just dumbfounded, he was dumb. Period. Too much had happened and he couldn’t get his brain around any of it.

Spike had a soul. None of the rest of them did. Giles and Willow were back, and Anya had broken up with him.

Wait. No. That last part wasn’t right.

She hadn’t broken up with him, because they hadn’t been dating. That’s what she said. And, _god_ , she was right! He was the one who had made it that way.

Whatever they _were_ doing, he was pretty sure now, was done. Hadn’t he wanted that? Hadn’t he started to feel trapped again? He’d thought Anya was trying to pressure him for more and he’d resented it, but now she’d blown up at him and, what? Everything was over. He definitely didn’t want that. He wanted _her_. Just why in the hell hadn’t he realized that a few minutes ago – weeks ago, or before he left her at that goddamn altar?

He’d told himself, at the time, that he’d done the hard thing. And it _was_ hard, which meant it also had to be the right thing, right? Because nothing good ever came easy. He was trying to be the grown up and protect Anya from a terrible future with him.

Never before had he felt like such a child. She’d called that, too. He hadn’t grown up, he’d regressed to wanting everything his own way and throwing a tantrum when he didn’t get it. So did that mean that he really wanted her again now, or was it just because she’d denied him?

More importantly, did any of it matter? He didn’t think he could get her back now even if he did pull his head out of his ass and figure out what he really wanted and why.

Just when he felt like hitting his head off one of the back walls of the Magic Box, Tara walked into the room and gave him a look.

Xander couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

He’d been avoiding this. He _thought_ he’d successfully been avoiding everything, but look where that had got him.

“Do you wanna talk?” asked Tara.

“No,” said Xander. “But I need to.”

Tara gave a little nod and they both sat down.

It took a long time before he could actually say anything else, but when the words finally came, it was like a faucet turned all the way up. All of his thoughts, all of his feelings, and all of his misdeeds came rushing out in a long, jumbled confession: from how he hadn’t told Buffy Willow’s message as she went off to fight Angel, right up to summoning the demon the year before. The people Sweet made dance to death were dead because of him. Because he’d wanted to stir things up.

To that point, he hadn’t admitted – even to himself – where his guilt lay, but he was hoping that part-way facing up to it now would count for something.

“It wasn’t just that,” said Tara, softly, which threw him off the next bit of his pre-prepared speech.

“It– what?” He stood up. “What do you mean?”

Tara looked deep into his eyes. Xander couldn’t believe how sad she looked. For him. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember?” he questioned, starting to back away. “There’s nothing to remember!”

She didn’t argue with him or try and step close, but when Tara raised her hand, he saw the memory in a flash: him leaving Jack O’Toole to be eaten by Oz in his werewolf state.

Xander shook the memory off. “No, that’s not how it was. He was a zombie trying to kill everyone.”

“He was sentient,” said Tara, her voice even. “You had already stopped him. And Oz–”

“Oz?” repeated Xander, suddenly feeling sick.

Tara swallowed before saying, “Aside from everything else, you gave Oz his first taste of blood. That changed things for him. And he didn’t know. You–”

“I didn’t tell him,” Xander realized aloud. At the time, he thought it was better that way, just like a bunch of other things he brushed under the rug and didn’t admit to. Just like after that time when he was possessed by the hyena spirit and he–

Bile rising higher in his throat, Xander abandoned the thought. The way Tara was looking at him, though… he knew she knew.

He had to sit down again just to stop the room from spinning. Head in his hands, he said, “I think I regret my whole life.”

“What about the good things you’ve done?” asked Tara.

Xander scoffed, but she pressed the point.

“You gave Buffy CPR when the Master drowned her, and you saved the whole world by helping Willow last year.”

He raised his head and forced a tight smile. “It doesn’t make up for the other things though, does it?”

“No,” said Tara gently.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “What do I do now?”

“Well, that’s up to you.”

\---

Before, when Spike travelled in between the points on his journey, the travel itself was quick; almost instantaneous. It was just the points themselves where he had to spend time, surviving long enough before he could move on.

With two worlds behind him and one to go before fighting the big fight, he had assumed the transitions would continue being uneventful. This one, though… It wasn’t that anything happened, it was just that it took a really long time for all the nothing to take place.

Spike was surrounded by darkness on all sides. He couldn’t see a thing, but he had the sensation of being propelled forward. The forward motion happened at a steady pace and without any input from him, so that just left him to his thoughts.

His many, many thoughts.

At one point, Spike wondered if he’d fucked up and was actually dead, because his brain replayed everything, flashing through his entire experience with Buffy. That was a lot of memories. Some of them good, a few of them he wouldn’t ever part with, and the rest… well, he wouldn’t have consciously chosen to go back there. But it just went to show how far they’d come, literally and metaphorically. Neither of them were really the people the started out as, but something else struck him even harder than that:

He loved her, now more than ever.

That left him with a choice in what to do about it.

Before, he’d been torn over whether to return to Sunnydale or not. Now, he figured the best thing would be going back a final time and giving Buffy that choice. If she still wanted nothing to do with him, he’d go – though god only knew where – but if she needed him, even just as muscle in her mission against the armies of darkness, he would stay.

His resolve strengthened as he finally arrived at his destination. One more try couldn’t hurt, could it?

\---

Dawn suppressed the urge to squeal with delight as she found not only the book Google told her she needed, but found the chapter within in it she’d hoped would be there.

She slipped it in her bag and crept down the ladder into the main space of the Magic Box. Giles was busy making notes having apparently wrapped up his call, so he didn’t notice her exit.

That was good. It would have sucked majorly to get caught now. It was going to be the very last time she stole anything, from anyone. From here on out, she wouldn’t need to.


	16. Chapter 16

Buffy wasn’t home from work long when Xander arrived unexpectedly. She’d been planning to spend some more time checking on Spike via the mystical-orb thingy and kinda resented being pulled away from it, especially if her friend was going to say what she thought he was.

He declined her offer to sit. “I’ll make this brief.”

Buffy made a vague ‘go ahead’ gesture, taking the opportunity to sit herself. “Is this the part where you tell me Spike’s dangerous without his chip and that I should put him down the second he gets back to town?”

“I–” he shook his head. “No.”

She sat back a little further and crossed her arms. “Really?”

“The thing is,” said Xander, “I do think both those things, but it’s also come to my attention that everything I think might be… y’know…”

“Warped?” suggested Buffy.

Xander winced and hung his head. “Yeah, kinda that.”

Buffy considered him afresh. “You talked to Tara, didn’t you?”

“She may have offered some fresh perspective,” he allowed.

“Okay,” said Buffy, “Where do I fit in on this?”

Holding himself straighter, Xander forced himself to look her in the eye. “I came to apologize. You’re probably thinking, ‘for what?’ and the scary part is, I’m not even sure. There’re tons of things I should be saying sorry for, I don’t even know where to begin.”

Buffy’s shoulder muscles untensed now she was definite the conversation wasn’t going to turn into another fight. “You just did,” she said. “Begin, I mean. The whole road to redemption’s not just a single place, but it sounds like you’ve found yourself at the first turn off.”

Xander offered her a small, grateful smile. “We’re all on the road, aren’t we? The redemption thing’s not just for regretful vampires.”

“It’s not, and we are. Or, at least, going that way. Does this mean you’re gonna give Spike a break when he gets back?”

“I know it won’t be easy,” said Xander, “But if you want me to, I will. If you can forgive him, then maybe I could stand to get over myself a little and give him a chance.”

Without thinking about it or even really being aware of standing up, Buffy leaned into her friend and hugged him tight.

“Thank you,” she told him.

“Don’t,” he said, letting her go again. “It’s my fault we had to make up in the first place. I think, somewhere along the line, I forget about my ‘What Would Buffy Do?’ manifesto on life.”

Buffy laughed despite herself. “You know I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time, right?”

He grinned at her but, lovely as the moment was, she could tell there was something else weighing on him. Just as Buffy made up her mind not to push him on whatever it is, he said, “So… did you know Anya’s not a demon anymore?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” he repeated. He looked taken aback, but surely that couldn’t be right. How could he not know?

“I’m the Slayer, Xander. Demons are kind of my job.”

“Oh. Right. Sure, I mean…” he trailed off and ran an anxious hand through his hair.

“You really think I would have let her hang around if she was still casting vengeance wishes?” Buffy questioned.

Xander deflated further in answer.

She stood back, biting her lip. “Wow.”

He hung his head again. “Yeah, so I messed up. Again.”

“I’ll say,” said Buffy, grimacing. “I mean, as your friend, I should probably be making you feel better and saying it’s not that bad…”

“But it is,” said Xander.

“Yeah, it is,” said Buffy honestly. “As Anya’s friend, I’ve gotta say, she deserves better than that.”

Through a clenched jaw, Xander said, “You think I should just leave it alone.”

Buffy shook her head. “Leaving it doesn’t work. You gotta face it. Apologize. She’ll either forgive you or she won’t, but you should change anyway.”

“I should,” Xander agreed. He looked so young and alone, facing an impossible task like a toddler being asked to climb a mountain unassisted.

“Thanks for coming,” said Buffy, not sure if there was anything else she could say. So much of it was up to him and him alone. “I will be here for you, you know, when you’re done,” she promised.

They hugged again and then he was gone.

Buffy turned away from her front door to go back into the living room when Tara appeared in front of her. Buffy jumped, then caught her breath and walked past her to the couch.

“How much of that did you see?”

“Enough,” said Tara. “He’s taking some big steps. You’re being a good friend.”

“I don’t know,” said Buffy. “I kinda feel partially responsible. Like, I always let Xander off the hook when he messed up. Maybe too easily. Willow too.”

“It’s not your job to discipline them,” said Tara.

“It is when it leads to lives lost,” said Buffy. That thought took her over for a moment, but she shook herself out of it to focus on Tara again. “Is something up? News on Spike?”

Tara smiled. “Yes and no. I wanted to share some things with you, but it’s not new news.”

“O-kay,” Buffy said tentatively. “And it is about Spike?”

Tara nodded. She reached out a hand towards Buffy only to pause at the last second. Buffy braced herself for whatever was up next then indicated she was ready.

Tara pressed two fingers to Buffy’s temple and there was a flash of light.

Buffy saw a vision of Spike fighting monsters and, for a second, she thought it was a direct feed to what he was doing in the other realm, but then she remembered what Tara said about it not being new.

The vision continued and Buffy forced herself to keep watching, though it was hard because Spike was clearly in a lot of pain. When he won his third trial, another demon moved towards him out of the shadows and placed a hand to his chest, filling it with light.

The vision dissolved before Buffy’s eyes. She blinked back tears as her gaze refocused on Tara.

“That was him getting his soul. That was….” she trailed off and shook her head. It was spinning, still trying to process the pain she’d just seen. “He did that for me.”

“And he wanted to give it up for you too, remember?”

“In the Magic Box. When he heard I didn’t have my soul anymore.” God, she felt sick. “I hit him. I was so angry. At him. That he could–”

Buffy’s stomach rolled and she rushed into the yard to throw up, knowing her shaking legs wouldn’t have made it upstairs. She was on all fours, panting on her front lawn when Tara joined her again.

“Please,” Buffy begged her. “Please make sure he comes home. Please tell him I’m sorry.”


	17. Chapter 17

Tara promised Buffy she’d do all she could to help Spike. When the Slayer had calmed down and they were back in the house, she asked Tara if she could show her more.

“More? Like what?”

Buffy wrung her hands. “I don’t know. Something that’ll help me make sense of all this. Of him.” She stopped pacing and looked Tara in the eye. “His past, like when he became a vampire. Or before that. Can you show me his human life?”

Tara hesitated. If anyone else had been asking, it would have been an out and out no, without question. She simply couldn’t share such things about someone without their consent. Except the person in question was Spike, who she knew for a fact would let Buffy rip him open and poke around inside if she wanted.

Before she could open her mouth to express the ethical dilemma, Tara was caught up in a beam of light and deposited – none too lightly – at the ethereal feet of the Powers That Be.

Again, she tried to speak but was denied the chance. The PTB got in there first.

“Are you not happy with your post?” they asked. “You do not wish to abide by the terms of it.”

“I’m glad you’re letting me help my friends,” said Tara, trying to keep frustration out of her tone as much as possible, “But I gotta admit it’s more than a little frustrating when you won’t let me help them all the way.”

“There are protocols,” said one voice.

“They exist for a reason,” said another.

“I know that,” said Tara. She didn’t think they’d understand much about extenuating circumstances. “I’m doing my best here.”

“Are you?” enquired the voices as one.

_I hope so_ , she thought, but didn’t say. She really hoped she could keep her promise to Buffy, do her duty, and have her plan all work out. She had to believe it was possible.

\---

The third realm Spike had to travel through was an ice planet that spent most of its days in the dark.

After the moment it took his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, Spike saw something white flash up ahead. It looked like some feral kind of polar bear. He didn’t know whether it was a mutated beast or a demonic possessed one but he didn’t have long to muse on it as it was headed right his way.

_Well, shit._

He took off running in the opposite direction, hoping to make it to the next portal before being eaten alive.

\---

Dawn came home to find Buffy in a panic. She was saying something about Tara being missing, and something else about an orb. It took a while before she could make any sense of it.

“You’re saying Tara gave you an orb so you could check on Spike?”

“Yes, and it’s gone. It must have vanished when she did. I should call Giles, or Willow, maybe. Get one of them to do a spell and track them down.”

“Buffy, I don’t–”

“No!” Buffy snapped at the interruption. “I need to know he’s okay!”

Dawn crossed her arms. A few days ago, she would have been happy about her sister’s apparent concern for her Vampire, but now she had too many questions.

“Listen,” she said, “Tara’s a higher being. I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. She’s protected by the Powers, right?”

Buffy didn’t answer, so Dawn pressed on. “I need to talk to you.”

“Can it wait?”

“No.”

Buffy’s eyes finally settled on her. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to understand some things,” said Dawn, looking away. “You said that souls didn’t matter.”

Buffy sighed, finally pausing in her frantic search of her nightstand. She got off her knees and sat heavily on the bed. “I thought they did, but apparently they don’t. Go figure.”

Dawn pouted, resigning herself to the fact that the conversation was going to be even harder than she imagined. “Did you change your mind when Tara told us more about them, or before that?”

Buffy hesitated. Eventually, on the back of another sigh, she said, “It doesn’t matter.”

“If it didn’t matter, why did it make it okay for you to treat Spike like that? Does you not having a soul make it okay that he tried to rape you?”

“Dawn!” Buffy’s eyes widened and right hand went to her mouth. It was shaking.

“No, I’m serious. Because the logic doesn’t follow. Either souls make all the difference, or they don’t matter at all. Which is it?”

Buffy looked down. She stayed quiet for so long, Dawn thought she was going to avoid the question; pretend she hadn’t been asked. After a while, though, she said, “He didn’t try and rape me.”

Dawn stared at her. “What?”

Buffy looked up again, meeting her eye, ashen-faced. “At the time, a lot was happening. I…” she shook her head.

Dawn lowered her voice to a whisper. “I saw what he did, Buffy. In the bathroom. I saw it.”

Buffy reeled away from her. “What are you talking about?”

“I went back. I watched it.”

“No.” Buffy stood up but was shaking too hard to go anywhere. “No! I never wanted you to see that. How?”

“I…” Dawn swallowed. “I have powers.”

“Powers?” repeated Buffy.

“Yeah, I… I guess it’s kinda like the orb Tara gave you. I can view things from the past and elsewhere in the present. I can’t interact with the memories or change anything, but I was there.” Her voice broke. “I watched him pin you down.”

“You weren’t there,” said Buffy defiantly. “ _I_ was there. I felt those things!” she was crying openly now. Dawn wasn’t actually sure if she’d noticed.

“Dawn, I know you think you understand–”

“No,” said Dawn. “I don’t understand anything. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I imaged the things I’d been told in my head, and I rationalized them, but then seeing them–” she shook her head. “It was different. None of it makes any sense. How you could be like that to each other?”

Buffy tried and failed a few times to form answers but mostly cried some more. In the end, all she could do was repeat, “It wasn’t rape. It just wasn’t.”

Dawn took a deep breath. She hadn’t gotten anything clear in her head at all but, to be fair to Buffy, she had blindsided her. Maybe they could all figure it out when Spike was safe and they’d had some time.

“Just tell me one thing,” said Dawn.

Buffy looked wary. “What?”

“Do you want him back? Here, in Sunnydale, I mean?”

“Yes,” said Buffy. There was no hesitation that time.

Dawn set her jaw. “Okay.”

Buffy looked at her. “Okay? What do you mean okay?”

Without answering, Dawn disappeared in a flash of green light only to return a second later in the middle of Buffy’s bedroom floor holding Spike’s hand. She dropped it in the next second.

Spike was panting. Wild eyes looked everywhere – at Dawn, down at himself, then at Buffy.

“What–” he began, only to get cut off by Buffy launching herself into his arms.


	18. Chapter 18

Overwhelmed, was the word for it. Everything had happened so fast, leaving little time for explanations, and now all Spike knew was the smell and the feel and the weight of Buffy against him.

Before he could decide whether to hug her back just as tightly or keep his arms fixed firmly by his side, she’d pulled back and was staring at him. Their eyes connected for a long time, both of them welling up, and then that was gone too.

Buffy seemed to gather herself as she moved her gaze to Dawn.

“What did you do? How is he here?”

“I got him,” said Dawn, simply.

Spike couldn’t help but notice how _she_ wouldn’t look at him. He shifted uncomfortably, which made Buffy’s eyes snap back to him again.

“I don’t understand.”

“You wanted him back,” said Dawn, “So I went and got him and brought him here. For you.”

Buffy struggled to find words. She made attempts at several questions before finally asking, “What about the demon?”

Dawn stood a little taller. “I killed it.”

Buffy’s mouth gaped open. “You– you did what?”

Spike grinned. “The bit vaporized it, Pet. You shoulda seen her!”

When Buffy could still only stare at him some more, he seemed to come back to himself and realize that they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. He cleared his throat, wishing he’d never said anything. Instinct told him it was time to make his excuses and leave, but Dawn’s words about Buffy wanting him stuck in his brain. Between them and the hug, he couldn’t help but hope.

Buffy was still looking pretty stunned. “Let me get this right,” she said. “The demon’s dead?”

“Uh huh,” said Dawn.

“You killed it?”

“I did.”

“How? I mean– what?”

“I told you, Buffy, I have powers.”

“Since when?”

Dawn bit her lip. “Since always, maybe? I’m not sure, but I only found out how to access them recently.”

“Since you started questioning more about what you are, now you know you don’t have a soul.” Buffy nodded along with her conclusion, finally seeming to absorb some of it. “This means Spike doesn’t need to go back there and finish things?” She snuck another look at him. “He’s here to stay?”

“If that’s what you want,” Dawn and Spike said in unison. They locked eyes and, he wasn’t sure, but Spike felt something like understanding pass between them.

In the next moment, Buffy was hugging Dawn and thanking her. She hugged Spike once more, too, and told him not to go anywhere.

“Just give us a minute, okay?”

He nodded, watching as Buffy and Dawn left the room.

\---

Buffy stepped into the hall and closed the bedroom door behind her. She took a moment to still herself, barely able to believe it was true.

“Dawn, I–” Goddamn it, she was welling up again.

“I get that there’s a lot going on,” said Dawn. “It’s a lot to handle. For me too.”

“You’re amazing. What you’ve done…” she shook her head. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that,” said Dawn. “This is the part where you promise we’re gonna talk all this out. Not now, but later when things have calmed down again.”

“We are,” Buffy vowed.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” said Dawn. She gave her a hard stare. “I mean it, Buffy.”

Buffy was overcome with love and pride for her sister. She just kept stepping up and surprising her. Reaching forward for another hug, she said, “Consider me held.”

“Okay.” Dawn’s features softened. “You can go back to your vamp now.”

“Wait,” said Buffy. “I want you to promise me there won’t be anymore interdimensional traveling until we figure out more about how it works. You, me, Willow, Giles – and Tara, if she comes back – will sit down and look into it, okay?”

“Okay,” said Dawn. She seemed a little exasperated but genuine enough, all the same.

“And the other things,” Buffy continued on, lowering her voice. “What you were asking about me and Spike. I find it hard to talk about, but I’ll try my best to answer your questions. Just–”

“You just don’t want me going back and seeing anything else that happened between you two first hand. Check. Understood.”

“Thank you,” said Buffy. She gave Dawn’s hand one last squeeze then turned back to the door. She paused with her palm the handle, knowing that as soon as she was in a room alone with Spike, she’d have to deal with everything.

Steeling herself, she stepped through.

\---

Now that Dawn had said what she needed to and completed the big mission, she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with herself. She went downstairs, because even being in the room beside Spike and Buffy didn’t feel like it was giving them enough space. She couldn’t imagine how they would even start to work through things, but she trusted her sister had it under control.

As she bopped around the kitchen, wondering if she should make a snack, Tara appeared in front of her. She looked flustered.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I, umm… did you just go kill the big bad?”

“Oh,” Dawn smiled brightly. “Yeah. It was actually kinda cool.”

Tara’s eyes were wide. “Wow, Dawnie. This is…” she trailed off.

Dawn’s smile slipped, because it looked like she was going to cry. “I didn’t mess anything up, did I? For you I mean?”

“Well, no,” said Tara. She bit her lip, then kind of forced herself to look happy. “You kinda did my job for me. It… It’s just…”

“It’s just that now it’s done,” said Dawn, following the line of thought. “Does that mean you’re gonna have to leave us now?” She heard her voice get really small. “We won’t see you again?”

Tara hesitated. “I’m not sure. I don’t know the Powers’ plans, but I was working on something. Now I’m not sure if it’ll work. I… I’m not ready.”

“I’m sorry,” said Dawn. “I guess I didn’t really think this through.”

“No,” said Tara. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known.”

Dawn was determined not to leave it there. “You’re here right now,” she said. “You don’t know if or when the Powers will call you away to something else, but you don’t have another mission yet, right?”

Tara nodded.

“Right,” said Dawn. “So you should go to Willow; Say whatever you need to, just in case this is the end, but don’t give up on your plan yet. While you’re still here, it has a shot.”

“Yes,” said Tara. She smiled a little. “You’re right, I shouldn’t give up.”


	19. Chapter 19

When Buffy walked back into her bedroom, she found Spike facing away from her, glancing all around the room. He looked lost, like he was trying to decide if he should sit or stand; put his hands in his pockets or raise them above his head in surrender.

God, they had a long way to go.

Buffy sat on the edge of her bed and Spike finally selected the chair beside her dresser, pulling it close but not too close. The moment hung in the air too long. Buffy cleared her throat.

“So, there’s a lot I wanna ask, and there’s obviously a lot we should talk about, but I should start by saying I’m sorry.”

Spike regarded her with wary eyes, as if it might be a trap. Before he could reply, though, she went on to say, “I shouldn’t have hit you. In the Magic Box. Or, well, ever really. Except for maybe when you were trying to kill me, but…” she rubbed her temple. “That’s different. You know what I mean. Violence is–”

“Part of who you are,” said Spike. “Me too.”

Buffy frowned. “Okay,” he did have a point, so she wasn’t going to fight him on it. “You still know what I mean.”

He lowered his eyes with a quiet, “Yeah.”

She went to continue, but then he said, “I don’t know if I can say sorry for my part in it; in everything. The words, they… they’re just words. It’s not enough.”

“I’d say your actions speak pretty clear,” said Buffy.

“Yeah,” Spike said again, but it was a scoff.

“Spike, I’m not mad at you for getting a soul. I mean, I was, but that was illogical. I can’t explain it, but it… it means a lot.”

He shifted slightly in his seat. “What does it mean?”

Buffy hesitated.

“God knows I’m a tosser for even asking. I don’t know how you’re even sitting here now. It’s not like I have any reason to–” the words were cut off by her lips on his.

Spike went deathly still and Buffy pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I just… you know I’m bad with words, but I want to make it clear: I missed you, Spike.” She looked at her hands but forced herself to say it – what she’d been most scared of: “I love you.”

Spike didn’t say anything. Buffy could just imagine him staring at her like she was crazy, but when she risked another glance at his face, she saw tears streaked down both cheeks. The urge to close the distance and press herself against him welled up again, but she resisted it. She couldn’t afford to get this wrong.

“Before you even think it: no, it’s not because of the soul.”

His head tilted to the side, but he stayed speechless. Buffy pushed on, eager to explain what she needed him so desperately to understand.

“I love that you got your soul. That you fought for it, for me. But it’s not like I only love you because you got it, or since you got it.” She got up and began to pace. “I’m not explaining this right, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

“Before?” Spike questioned, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I…” she worried her hands. “I’ve been in love with you for a while. Pre-soul getting.”

“How long?” he asked, his voice breaking a little.

Even now, she didn’t want to tell him, because it made everything worse. She’d done all those things and put him through all that crap, and she’d loved him the whole time.

“Spike, I…”

“How long?” he repeated, but it sounded like even he was scared of the question.

Buffy braced herself. Because he deserved to know, and she’d already come this far. “Somewhere between you letting Glory torture you to keep Dawn safe and that final battle, before I–” she swallowed. “Before I died.”

Spike’s eyes glazed over a little. Buffy wasn’t sure if he’d heard her. It kinda looked like he was doing a mental calculation. What had it been? Like a year and a half? It felt like a lifetime.

She wanted to say more, but she waited. Finally, Spike said, “You lost your soul after the big fight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said, though she didn’t know why it mattered to this particular conversation.

“All that time,” he continued, “Last year. You kept saying people couldn’t love without souls. That… that was–”

_Oh, god. That’s what he thought?_ “No!” said Buffy vehemently. “I wasn’t saying that because I’d stopped loving you. I didn’t even know that I was soulless. And plus, we both know it’s not true.”

The look he gave her intensified.

Shame spread across her belly. “Yes, Spike, I believe you. I always did.”

He shook his head. “Then, why?”

“Why did I deny you could love? Why did I push you away?”

He nodded.

“Because it was terrifying, Spike!” She was a little exasperated now. “How could you not know how scary that is? For someone to love you when you–” she choked around the words in her mouth. “When you’re hurting them, and keep hurting them. And everyone.”

“Buffy–”

“I mean it!” she said, her voice pitching high again. “I was anything but loveable, and yet you did, and I just couldn’t deal with it. Any of it. I wanted you to hate me, because at least then I know how to cope.”

“Buffy,” he said again. He stood up and leaned towards her but wouldn’t pull her to him they way she knew he wanted to. She opened her arms, letting him know it was okay, and tentatively he took a step.

Buffy cried against his shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Gently, he petted her hair. “You’re not being fair, Pet, taking this all on yourself. You’d just been ripped from bloody heaven, of course your head was a mess! An’ I know I didn’t help. I wanted to, but it’s not like I was really trying.”

Buffy smiled a little. “You were,” she insisted. “And you did. You were the only one that did, and I punished you for it. You made the world that little bit bearable, but every time I left you, it fell apart all over again.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Already told you it doesn’t mean anything, or make any difference, but–”

“It does,” said Buffy.

He looked at her, half-hopeful. “It does?”

“It matters,” Buffy affirmed.

Spike looked like he was going to cry again. They were stood so close, in a stalemate. It was unbearable. Buffy sat back down on the edge of the bed and pulled him with her.

“I feel like we could be talking about this forever.” She laughed a little, thinking about what the therapy bills would cost. “It’s a good job you’re immortal.”

Spike smiled, but it was tight.

“I’m glad you came home,” Buffy told him, softly.

“Is that what this is? Sunnydale, or–”

Buffy shook her head, correcting him. “Here. This house.” Nervously, she added, “Me. I-if that’s what you want.”

Fresh tears glittered his eyes as he leaned close. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”


	20. Chapter 20

An age had passed and they were still sat side-by-side on Buffy’s bed – legs crossed, hands touching – talking about everything. Still, it didn’t feel like enough.

Spike was pretty sure Buffy was exhausted by the way she held herself but, knowing her, she didn’t want to stop. He didn’t either, and he definitely didn’t want to be the one to break the spell.

Eventually, with a groan, Buffy got up and stretched. Spike watched her, waiting for his cue. Idly, she walked to the window.

“Hey, did you know it’s dark out?”

Spike chuckled. “I’m not even sure what year it is.”

“Right,” said Buffy. “Interdimensional travel and all that.” She frowned, pondering it. “Do you have, like, jet lag or something?”

“Or something,” he affirmed, with an easy smile. “Hard to explain.”

Buffy returned the smile. “Well, I’ve got all night. Wanna patrol?”

He bounced up on his feet, happy to be moving. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“So what was it like?” Buffy asked, en route to the first graveyard.

“Travelling?” Spike questioned. “It was… unsettling. You lose all sense of time and space. Of yourself. Also gives you a lot of time for think.”

“Not always a good thing,” noted Buffy, shyly, clearly having no doubt as to where his thought lay. “Come to any conclusions?”

“Yeah.” He snorted. “That I’m a bloody idiot.”

Buffy smiled. “I could have already told you that. In fact, I think I did.”

Spike couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, might’a mentioned it, once or twice.” He reached for her hand and she gave it willingly. “Am I always gonna have to put up with your quips?”

“Uh huh,” Buffy said, cheerily.

“Can’t bloody wait.”

It was bliss just to be teased by her. Though he still wasn’t quite sure how it happened, the comfort they had now was something he’d give the world for.

“I saw certain bits of your trip,” said Buffy, bringing them back on topic. “You knew that, right?”

He inclined his head. “Yeah, Glinda said. Can’t imagine it was terribly thrilling viewing.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s _Passions_ ,” said Buffy, “But there were some, um, highlights.”

Spike stopped walking and she looked back at him.

“What?”

“You.” He swallowed. “Did– I mean, did you see–?”

Buffy bit her lip and stepped closer to place a kiss on his cheek. “I saw.”

“Oh.” If he could blush, he was pretty sure he’d be beetroot.

Buffy was luminous. “Was I not supposed to see?”

Spike stammered, not sure how to answer.

Buffy sighed. “I guess things are still gonna be weird for a while. I don’t know how you feel, and I’m sorry if I overstepped, but I’m okay with it so long as you are.”

He exhaled, relief flooding through him. “Mostly,” he admitted, “The main thing about the whole soddin’ journey was the loneliness.”

Buffy squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged it off. “No more than I deserve.”

“No,” said Buffy firmly. “We’re not gonna do the whole guilt thing.”

“I’m not sure it’s that easy,” said Spike, but he was smiling again.

“Well, no,” allowed Buffy. They walked on a little further in silence, then she asked, “Was it different?”

“Was what different?”

“You. Did you feel different went you got your soul?”

Ah. He’d wondered how long they’d take getting around to that. Spike contemplated his answer carefully. “Yes,” he decided, finally.

Buffy frowned. “See, I don’t get that. I still don’t really get any of this. Tara keeps telling me that souls don’t matter, and on some level I can process that because they don’t matter between us. That part is clear with me, now. It’s just…” She shook her head.

Spike put his arm across her shoulder. “Does it matter that we don’t understand?”

\--- 

Willow felt weird going back to Buffy’s house, not knowing if she’d ever live there again. The last time she was there, she’d left Tara’s body bleeding out. Now, Tara was beside her, sans that same body. It was a lot to get used to, and Willow didn’t know if she wanted to, but at least that would be better than never getting the chance.

They found Dawn in the living room. She seemed pleased to see both of them, which was a relief, but she said Buffy had gone out with Spike and she didn’t know when they’d be back.

“Is it important?”

“Yes,” said Tara. “I’m sorry to cut them short, but could you give Buffy a call?”

Dawn did so, happy to hear from Buffy that they were on their way back anyway. Giles arrived almost the same time as them, creating an awkward moment at the door, where both Giles and Spike offered to let the other one go first but neither moved.

Tension hummed in the air as they all took their seats around the dining room table, but Buffy broke it before too long.

“There’s something up?” she questioned Tara, cutting to the chase.

“Yeah, I have a plan,” Tara answered.

“As do I,” interjected Giles. “I trust Tara’s concern is more pressing, so I’ll be brief. Buffy, I wish to make you an offer on your house.”

Buffy stared at him, uncomprehending.

“I realize this might appear out of the blue, but I want to demonstrate how serious I am about staying in Sunnydale, to support you if that’s still what you want. My staying is not dependent on you selling up, you understand, but I want you and Dawn to have the option of somewhere to stay without the financial burden.”

“Giles, I don’t know what to say. That’s a lot,” said Buffy. “Dawn and I will need to talk about it, but I appreciate the offer.”

He nodded and passed the conversation back to Tara. Willow was glad. She could feel herself getting antsy at all the delays and interruptions.

“I wish I could give you all more time to process everything that’s already been said and done,” said Tara, “But this is a limited time offer.”

“What is it?” asked Dawn.

“There’s a spell that could give you all back your souls.”


	21. Chapter 21

Giles pondered the proposition of re-acquiring his soul while the others around him picked apart the how and why of it.

“Is this another ploy of the Powers that Be?” asked Buffy.

“Actually, no,” said Tara. “Their grand mission is simply to help their ‘chosen champions’.”

“Nicely vague,” scoffed Spike.

“Sounds just like them,” said Buffy.

Giles couldn’t help but notice how their knees touched under the table, or the seemingly unconscious action of Spike rubbing the pad of his thumb across the back of Buffy’s hand, which rested on his thigh.

“The thing is, they don’t seem to like any of my methods of helping. I want to try this, but I don’t know if they’ll let me.”

“That’s why you don’t wanna wait,” said Buffy.

Willow gave a tight smile. “We’re not sure how long Tara will be around now Spike is back.”

“How would it work?” asked Dawn. “Is it like how you got Angel his soul back?”

“No. This isn’t a curse.”

“So, it’s like how Spike got his?” Dawn pressed.

Spike flinched ever so slightly, but said nothing as he waited for Tara to reply.

“There’s a spell. It’s much bigger magic than Angel’s curse, especially since it includes so many people but nothing dark.”

“Okay,” said Buffy, “But who’s gonna do it, because – no offense, Tara – but you’re all un-bodied.”

“I can do it,” said Willow, timidly. She didn’t meet the Slayer’s gaze. “Tara talked me through the ingredients and incantations.”

Buffy turned to Giles expectantly. He cleared his throat.

“Willow still has her magic. At this point, it’s a part of who she is. It would be pointless in her trying to give it up. In England, we instead focused on grounding the power. I believe she’s more than capable.”

Buffy frowned, thinking on it, before finally saying, “If you think it’s safe, I trust you.” Her eyes travelled to Willow. “I’ll give you a chance.”

A silent tear ran down Willow’s cheek. She uttered muted thanks.

“We’re trying this, then,” said Dawn, resolutely.

“It does seem settled,” affirmed Giles. He called Xander and Anya, who arrived a half-hour later – together. Quickly, Tara gave them a rundown of the plan.

Everyone helped clear the living room of furniture, where they then sat in a circle with eyes closed and hands joined. In the middle was a bowl full of smoldering herbs.

Willow got the spell up and running and then, at the key part, Tara said, “Everyone wishing to reclaim their soul must now make a decision. In your mind, either say yes or no.”

There was a flash of light and the sound of chiming bells.

Spike and Tara gasped.

Everyone opened their eyes.

\---

Buffy looked at Spike. His breathing was labored and hand was shaking in hers. She opened her mouth to ask if he was okay, but was distracted by Tara crying and falling into Willow’s arms.

Willow caught her new corporeal form.

Buffy jumped to her feet. “What’s going on?”

Willow and Tara were too choked up to answer, but Giles said, “It would appear Tara chose the return of her soul. The Powers have released her back to human form.”

Buffy turned on her heal back to Spike. “What did _you_ do?”

He had mostly caught his breath but was still panting slightly. “Bloody gave it up, didn’t I?”

“What?” exclaimed Xander.

Spike didn’t look at him. His eyes didn’t leave Buffy’s. “Knew you’d be done with souls, after all this. If you’re gonna be without a ticket to heaven, I don’t bloody want one. All of it’s about you, Buffy. If they don’t matter to you, then I couldn’t give a toss.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “But it cost you everything,” she heard herself say, the words half-choked.

“Almost,” he allowed. “But of all the regrets I have, that isn’t one of them.”

Buffy fell into his arms and kissed his face, not caring who was watching.

“Wait,” said Xander. “Buffy didn’t accept her soul?”

“I didn’t either,” said Anya, beside him.

Tentatively, Dawn asked, “Did anyone, except Tara?”

She was met with resounding silence.


	22. Chapter 22

Tara was sat down, still trying to catch her breath as Willow fussed around her. She’d gotten her a chair and a glass of water as Giles and Xander moved the rest of the furniture back into the living room around them.

“Do you need a cushion? Or-or a blanket? Are you cold?”

Tara took Willow’s hand and revelled in the feel of skin-on-skin. “I’m okay.”

Willow calmed a little. “I just can’t believe it.”

Tara beamed at her. “I know.”

“Did you always plan on asking for your soul?”

“I did,” admitted Tara, “But I didn’t tell you in case it didn’t work.” She touched Willow’s cheek. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Willow’s face crumpled into tears once more. She pulled Tara into her arms and kissed her back to breathlessness.

\---

Spike would be eternally glad his gamble had paid off. He’d been convinced that Buffy wouldn’t accept her soul, given everything that had transpired, and it was a relief to have it confirmed he knew her as well as he thought he did.

Her embracing _him_ without a soul was less of a gamble now than it would have been before, with all of her carefully placed reasoning having fallen apart. He’d just had to trust in her heart not getting scared and overriding all she’d come to accept in her head.

Trust seemed to be what they were going for, this time around. Already, things were better than their farce of a relationship the previous year. Buffy wasn’t holding back in front of her friends, for one thing. Seeing it did a demon’s heart good.

“You look lost in think-y thoughts.”

He smiled. “Puttin’ it mildly, love.”

“No regrets?” she questioned, smiling up at him.

He sank into the couch and tugged her with him. She fell, pliantly, into his lap. “Not anymore.”

\---

Anya watched Xander closely. He’d surprised her in coming to her earlier with what seemed like genuine apologies, and now he’d turned down his soul. She couldn’t read his face and was wondering if there was anything else unexpected still to come.

“Are you okay?”

He frowned before focusing his eyes on her. “I’m not sure. Processing. What about you?”

She should not have been so delighted in having the question returned, but that didn’t stop her heart from swelling. It had been too long since he’d considered her wellbeing alongside his own, but it really seemed like he was starting to change.

“I made my peace with souls a long time ago,” she said. “It sounds like you didn’t know where you stood right up until you made the choice.”

“Ha! Yeah, I mean, I kinda assumed I’d want it back but then, in the moment, it just…” he trailed off, his eyes glazing over a little once more.

Anya gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. She hadn’t thought it possible, but hope had returned to her that they still might be able to work things out.

\---

Giles busied himself by making tea in the kitchen. He’d needed the excuse to take a moment for his thoughts, but was glad when Buffy joined him before too long.

“Making yourself at home?” she asked, cheerily.

He smiled. “It really is a nice house.”

Buffy used her arms to pull herself up onto the worktop, where she sat, legs dangling over the side. “I think Dawn’s gonna agree to let you buy us out.”

Giles looked up from stirring his cup. “You’d be okay with that?”

“It certainly takes the pressure off, and I don’t think you’d be a bad landlord.”

“As far as I’m concerned, the house would still be yours to rule,” said Giles. “Naturally, I’ll be passing it back to you, when the time comes.”

“The time?” Buffy questioned. A second later, her eyes widened and he knew she’d caught her meaning.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I think we all may have taken a step closer to making peace with our mortality tonight, but I don’t envision it being soon.”

Buffy hopped down and hugged him tight.

“Keep it that way,” she advised, the levity in her tone not masking the genuine feeling underneath.

“Am I to assume I have successfully made amends, then?”

Buffy pulled back. “Well, that depends.”

Giles lifted the mug to his lips but paused before sipping. “Depends on my acceptance of Spike, one would presume.”

“Yes,” said Buffy, succinctly. “If I’m living here, that means he’s gonna be, too. Is that something you’re gonna be okay about?”

Giles chose his words carefully. After a pause to taste his tea, he answered, “I’ve come to the conclusion it’s not my place to offer romantic advice. Least of all to you, Buffy.”

Buffy smiled. “It looks like we’ll have to reassess sleeping arrangements, but I figure Willow and Tara will probably want their own place. Wanna fight over the master bedroom?”

“The house is yours to rule as you see fit,” Giles affirmed again. “I only offer my support and an abundance of cash.”

\---

Dawn sat down heavily beside Spike, who gave her a wary look. She wondered if he might actually be a little scared of her, after seeing what she did to the Big Bad, before. Part of her kinda liked the idea of that, but it didn’t sit well with the rest.

It seemed like he was waiting for her to speak first, so she opened by saying that she was trusting him not to hurt her sister.

“I thought about threatening you but, honestly, I’d probably have to get in line with Buffy at the head of it.”

“If I ever hurt her again, I’ll stake myself,” Spike vowed seriously.

“Good,” said Dawn. “Does this mean we can be friends again?”

\--- 

The phone rang just as Buffy walked back into the living room. She looked around at her friends. "Who's calling me? Everyone I know lives here." Even as she said it, realization dawned on her. She braced herself and picked up.

Angel wasted no time in getting to it. “My sources said there was some powerful magic going down. I wanted to give you a heads up.”

“ _Please_ ,” scoffed Buffy. “That magic wasn’t half as charged as last year’s apocalypse and there was no ‘heads up’ then. What you’re _sources_ really told you is that Spike’s back in town, and that we’re together again.”

There was a moment of frustrated silence, then Angel sighed. “He doesn’t have a soul, Buffy!”

Buffy almost laughed. She almost lost it at how ignorant he was about everything they’d been through, but didn’t bother explaining it to him.

“Angel,” she said instead, tone perfectly calm.

“Yeah?” He sounded hopeful.

“We’re never having this conversation again.” She hung up and returned to Spike’s arms.

“Really think that’s the end of it?”

Buffy shrugged. “It is as far as I’m concerned, but if wants to push it, I have no qualms blocking the number. You can call me no-qualms Buffy.”

Spike grinned before leaning down to kiss her.


End file.
